


Spin Cycle

by Vathara



Series: Urban Legends [47]
Category: Airwolf, Rurouni Kenshin, Stargate SG-1
Genre: Action/Adventure, Alien Flora & Fauna, Crossover, Don't copy to another site, Gaki, Originally Posted on FanFiction.Net, Redwall mentions, Swords
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-14
Updated: 2018-12-13
Packaged: 2019-09-17 21:28:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 31,475
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16982118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vathara/pseuds/Vathara
Summary: Late-night laundry leads to a few other people keeping an eye on Cheyenne Mountain...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm gratuitously making up info on the PD around Cheyenne Mountain. (They've got more people than just NORAD there, so they have to have more cops!) Refers to the SG episodes "The Nox" and "A Matter of Time".

_Laundry_. Basket full of grimy, sweat-stained, or just plain no longer fit for polite company clothes propped in his arms, Dr. Daniel Jackson took the last two stairs of his apartment building in a controlled slip and fumbled with the basement doorknob. _Nice. Simple._

Not like people. Laundry didn't glare at you, or shoot at you, or declare war on your whole planet.

Laundry didn't negotiate, either. You couldn't appeal to its better nature, or try to point out a different view on the situation, or even ask it for more time. It just was. You did it, or you didn't.

_Maybe I've been up too long_.

The door opened. Daniel stumbled through, heading for the three washing machines the building superintendent kept for tenants' use, and stopped.

There was an impossibility sitting on his favorite washer.

Scarlet hair, bright as cardinal feathers, bound at the nape of his neck with a faded blue ribbon. A few strands had worked their way loose, dusting fresh scarlet over an old scar on the man's left cheek, drifting red over a pink _gi_ , leading the eye down to loose white _hakama_ pants. From there it was just a short visual jump to the flex of red _tabi_ , socks knitted with the big toe separate to wear the plain, leather-and-wood sandals currently sitting abandoned on the laundry room floor.

Daniel stifled a giggle. There was a Revolutionary Era swordsman sitting on his washer. Reading Brian Jacques' Redwall, if his eyes weren't lying.

_Yep._ Definitely _been up too long._

Well, if this was a dream… might as well go with it. Setting his basket down on a dryer, Daniel bowed slightly. _"Hajimemashite_ Daniel Jackson _desu."_

_"Konban wa,_ Jackson- _san,"_ The voice was light, full of quiet laughter. _"Hajimemashite_ Himura Kenshin, _de gozaru."_

_De gozaru? Nobody's used_ that _form of "existence" in four hundred years…._

"But you seem weary for speaking a tongue not your own, that you do." Kenshin jumped lightly down from the vibrating washer, landing in his sandals with easy grace. Without his sleeves to hide it, a curve of black showed clear; the leather-wrapped grip and night-dark metal of a sword's sheath.

"A little," Daniel admitted, suddenly conscious of his own six feet of height by how far up violet eyes had to look to meet his. Next to Teal'c everybody looked small, but this man…. _Heck, his katana is half as tall as he is!_

_Wait a second. This isn't a dream. And he_ does _have a katana_.

But Kenshin didn't _feel_ threatening, even to nerves drawn taut by too many off-world missions gone wrong. Above the faint, cross-shaped scar, violet eyes were… patient. Kind.

_Sword_ , Daniel reminded himself firmly, opening the lid of the next washer over. "Are you a guest, or…?"

Kenshin smiled, far more open than Daniel ever would have expected from someone so self-evidently Japanese. "As much as any of us here are, Jackson-san, under Mrs. Cercone's roof."

Right, Daniel thought, distributing shirts and sheets around the washer's drum. In Mrs. Cercone's eyes, all her tenants were guests. Though Daniel wasn't always one of the most welcome ones, given the archaeologist had a tendency to keep weird hours and disappear for days at a time, without ever giving her a crumb of gossip about the place he worked to make up for it….

Wait. Rewind. "You live here?"

"Since this Monday, that I do." A red brow quirked up; subtle, polite question.

Soap in. Shut the lid, turn the knob, and stand back.

Monday. Monday he'd been… trying not to get shot at. Again. Though in retrospect, the mission had gone pretty well. Nobody'd killed each other, Lady Daire had been mollified enough by his contrite act to talk to Sam through a "mere male" _if_ she had to, and Jack's recommendation that they send a follow-up medical mission to Aindrias to study the native antibiotic fungi hadn't been denied out of hand. All in all, not bad. "Sorry, Himura-san," Daniel apologized. "My job has been pretty hectic lately. It's nice to meet you. And Daniel is fine. If you don't mind."

"That I do not. And Kenshin will do." A quieter smile. "You are curious."

Was he ever. The old swords and reproductions on his wall were all fine quality, but he'd never seen any blade worn with such casual ease. _Not on Earth, at least._ "Is that an authentic katana?" Odds were it wasn't; few had ever left Japan to begin with, and the Japanese government went to great lengths to buy back those in collectors' hands. Yet it _felt_ real, in the same indefinable way as the amethyst scarab weighing down papers on his desk.

"A simple question. And the answer - yes and no." Kenshin drew the blade out a few inches. "As you may see."

The sword looked authentic; fine steel alloyed in a fashion that had already been ancient when America had just started to recover from the Civil War, hilt wrapped with rough leather meant to hold a grip even in a sweating, bloody hand. Yet the blade….

Daniel blinked. Squinted. "It's… upside down?" Disappointment washed over him. A reproduction, after all. No one made a katana like that.

"Not a weapon most would value, that it is not." Kenshin sheathed the reverse blade.

"Oh." And the week caught up with him all at once. Daniel leaned against the pale blue wall, head drooping.

He felt violet eyes narrow. "Perhaps sleep would be wise?"

"Yeah," Daniel sighed. "But you know how it is; if you leave things around, someone will toss them out so they can use the washer. Especially when you really _need_ clean clothes."

"Then sit." Kenshin lifted his book. "And we shall read of how brave young Matthias faced the great serpent, Asmodeus Poisonteeth…."

* * *

 

_"'…Remember, it is only a sword, Matthias! It contains no secret spell, nor holds within its blade any magical power. This sword is made for only one purpose, to kill. It will only be as good or evil as the one wields it….'"_

Kenshin felt his new neighbor's _chi_ soften into sleep, and closed his book. "But then, you know that already, that you do." He folded his hands on the cover, studying the weary young man. "It is the gift of the sword, to save those you care for, that you have forgotten."

It had taken Kaoru a long time to convince him it _was_ a gift. That the _Hitokiri Battousai_ \- terrible and frightening as he might be - had just as much right and claim to life as the gentle rurouni, Kenshin Himura.

Odd, that one who taught her students never to kill would plead for the life of the bloodiest assassin her time had ever known.

Or perhaps not so odd. The woman who lived for _katsujin-ken_ , the swords that give life, had seen what Kenshin himself could not; that the sword _was_ his life, and his magic, and to deny both was killing him as sure as any assassin's blade.

Surer. A hanyou's blood would heal a blade-thrust within days. Denying the Battousai had nearly brought him to an early death before his forty-seventh year.

_If Sanosuke had not brought me back to her… if I had not_ felt _that curse in the very air about her, and loved her so much as to set my own darkness free, if it would but give Kaoru a chance at life…._

_The Battousai is a demon_ , legends whispered. And, weak and weary and dying, desperate to save his ailing wife who was light and love and compassion itself, Kenshin had done as legends whispered _youkai_ did, and nursed his beloved with his own blood.

The results had been… unexpected.

Kenshin extended his chi sense outward, brushing past the other inhabitants of their apartment building, touching the bright fire that was Kaoru home from the dojo. _Alive, well, happy_ , vibrated in his senses.

Along with a quick flash of irritation at some momentary annoyance. But then, that _was_ Kaoru.

The washers vibrated to a stop. Kenshin waited a moment to see if Daniel would stir; smiled, and began transferring wet garments to dryers.

_Let the young one sleep. He needs it, that he does._

They were neighbors now, after all. Thanks to a certain white wolf's meddling. Though it'd barely been meddling, at all; once Kaoru had heard _widower_ , and _orphan_ , little short of a tsunami could have kept her away.

Kenshin settled on top of the nearer dryer, thinking. So. How to begin teaching a frightened young man to respect and care for his own darkness?

_Ah._ That _might do…._

* * *

 

"Daniel." A firm hand fell on his shoulder. "Daniel, wake."

_Stranger - grabbing - not again!_ Daniel lunged upward, hands tearing-

And found himself holding air.

Huh?

_Tmp._ Sandals touched down on a washer lid across the room. "It would seem," Kenshin said casually, hands not even near his blade, "That you have spent far too much time among your enemies, Daniel."

_How did - but he was-_ Daniel could still feel the nap of cotton against his fingertips. "Don't do that! I could have-" The archaeologist swallowed, all too easily able to picture his hands wrapped about that slim neck. _He's even smaller than Janet._

" _That_ would be unlikely." Violet sparkled, honestly amused. "I have dealt with those battle-scarred before, as has my wife, Kaoru."

_Wife?_ Jealous pain flared; Daniel stamped it down. It wasn't Himura's fault he was lucky.

"You should trust in others more, that you should." Kenshin leapt down to the floor, striding toward him, soundless as a breeze. "Your burden is heavy enough. You need not carry all the weight of protecting others from it as well." He stopped within easy reach, looking up with quiet patience. "Sometimes we can protect ourselves."

_Great. I'm getting lectured by a twenty-year-old!_ Yet something in those odd violet eyes looked much, much older. "And if I'd had a gun-"

"You did not."

Quiet confidence; it scraped Daniel's raw nerves like fingernails on a blackboard. " _If_ I had-"

"Forgive me, Daniel-san." Kenshin's lips curved, gently amused. "But while you are skilled… you are not that fast."

"Just Daniel," the archaeologist said automatically. _Yeah, right. I don't care how fast you are, you can't dodge bullets-_

Except… from what Teal'c and Jack had told him, there were martial artists who could. By reading their opponent's face and muscles, and dodging in that fraction of a second before the bullet, or the staff blast, was fired. "Ah… I hope you don't mind if I'd rather not find that out the hard way."

"It is wearing on the nerves, that it is," Kenshin nodded. "So noisy, modern weapons are."

_Noisy_. Daniel shook his head, opening the dryer nearest his chair. It didn't surprise him to find his laundry perfectly dry, even to the heaviest denim. The young swordsman had an air of quiet efficiency that matched Janet at her emergency-handling best. "So… how did you end up moving here?"

"An unfortunate encounter between our last landlord, a propane torch, misapplied building codes, and the plumbing." Kenshin shook out a woman's cherry-blossom patterned blouse, folded it neatly into his basket. "The residents escaped unharmed, but the fire weakened the building enough that the city itself demanded we withdraw. We wished to remain in the area, and a friend informed us an apartment was available." Sheets passed through small hands now, folded into neat, snowy rectangles. "Do you like tea?"

* * *

 

_So this is the one Aoshi's friend wanted us to look after_. Kaoru Kamiya peeked out of the kitchen to see the tall blond professor take off his shoes at the door. _Well, at least he has manners._

She'd been prepared to tolerate a lot worse than shoes in the house. Aoshi Shinomori wasn't the warmest of people, even today, but it was hard not to care about the tall _okashira_ who'd arranged their disappearance from Tokyo so long ago.

_Lucky for us_ , Kaoru thought, gathering the tea tray. _I was just so glad to be alive, that we both were alive. I didn't think about what it meant…._

The bedroom had still held a lingering, bitter scent of her curse-caused illness, though Kenshin had opened every door and panel to let the wind blow through. She'd been so _happy_ to see him moving, more and more flickers of his old grace coming back as rosy streaks of dawn touched the sky. Grace she hadn't seen in years, the pure, swift flow of movement that delighted his allies and terrified his enemies.

He stood in the doorway, one wrist bandaged, face turned toward sunlight to breathe deep of dawn. Her heart contracted. _Kenshin._

Kenshin as he'd looked when she'd first met him, half a lifetime ago. Kenshin… who even then had been near thirty, and looked no older than eighteen.

She might have made a sound. Or not; Kenshin's chi sense hadn't faded as fast as the rest of his skills. "Kaoru? Beloved?"

"Come here." Kaoru struggled to sit up. She still felt weak as a kitten; but only weak, as if waking from the flu. Not the terrible, grinding exhaustion her illness had become.

And he was by her, one swift blur of movement. "What is it?"

Kaoru laid a hand along his cheek, studying the sparks of amber still flickering in violet eyes. Only a few hours ago, in the dead of night, she had seen a side of her husband she'd never thought to see again.

Hitokiri Battousai.

Eyes pure amber, hair streaming from red to inhuman scarlet, aura a crackling thunderstorm that for once demanded _life_ , not death.

_Live_ , the demon who was yet her husband demanded, offering the blood from his own veins. _Fight, woman! You've never given up in your life. Live!_

And even now, the rurouni had not taken full control.

"You're…" Different? But he wasn't different, he was Kenshin. Kenshin as she remembered him best, Kenshin as she'd always thought he should be, before guilt and remorse had worn away his strength.

Kenshin, who could read every shift of her heart in her sky-blue eyes. One sword-worn hand took hers in a comforting grip. The other picked up her hand mirror. Giving her a hopeful smile, he looked.

And sat down next to her. Hard.

"This is not possible." For once, Kenshin sounded truly shocked. "This is-"

"-Not unexpected."

"Aoshi." Kenshin didn't even look up.

Shinomori stepped out of the shadows, long trench coat flowing around him, concealing the paired _kodachi_ Kaoru knew he carried everywhere. Still tall. Still cool. Still elegant and untouchable as night itself; eyes of twilight, hair dark as moonless winter sky.

Still no older than the first time she'd seen him.

Lips slightly parted, Aoshi tasted the air. "Chinese witchery," the _onmitsu_ leader said plainly. "The same as that which struck at Misao, and Tokio. Megumi dodged it wholly, fox that she is… one last, vile vengeance against those who defended Tokyo's Circle of Eternity. They must have been years preparing." He laughed once, without mercy. "A pity they will have so short a time to enjoy it."

"Go elsewhere, Aoshi," Kenshin said numbly. "This one is… too old for such battles."

"Last week, yes. Today?" Aoshi stepped closer. "I came as soon as word reached me of how ill Kaoru-san truly was. I knew if anything might goad you to break the Battousai's chains…."

"What-" Kenshin put the mirror down, hands trembling. "What has happened to this one?"

Kaoru punched him lightly in the arm. "Stop that!" Yes, the situation was beyond strange, but that was no excuse for using _sessha_ again. Not after all the time she'd spent breaking him of the habit!

"Yes." A thin smile touched Aoshi's face. "I would stop that. Cousin."

"Oro?" Kenshin squeaked.

_"Cousin?"_ Kaoru gasped.

"Distant cousin, perhaps. It's hard to be certain. But I know this." A darkened blade sliced bloodstained cloth. Kaoru stiffened, prepared to put pressure on if Kenshin's wound reopened-

The horizontal slash had already knitted itself closed. As if it'd been healing for days, not hours.

"Legends can be true, Himura," Aoshi had said matter-of-factly. "And the legend of the Battousai… the demon of the Revolution, the assassin whose blade fed on the lives of men, whose speed and power was beyond any _human_ … is truer than most."

_Thank the kami for Aoshi_ , Kaoru thought now, bringing out the tea. _If he hadn't gotten us moving… well, it could have gotten messy._ "So! Dr. Jackson? Is this the one we couldn't find?"

"I think so, yes," Kenshin smiled, seating himself on the tatami.

" _Arigatou_ , Kaoru-san." Daniel sat _seiza_ with only a little hesitation. "I'm sorry, I really can't stay long. But welcome to the building."

"We can always talk more later, now that we know you're a real person, not a ghost everyone else just _thinks_ lives here," Kaoru said pertly. "I was beginning to wonder."

Daniel blushed. "Work gets away from you sometimes. You know how it is." He sipped his tea.

Kaoru waited, trying not to watch. It was just tea. It wasn't as if there was any food in it.

Not that he should complain if there was. After all, anyone could learn to cook. All it took was practice.

And practice.

And _more_ practice, gently if firmly urged on by Kenshin's patient persistence. Though even today, when it came to sharing the cooking, he usually left her to take out her frustrations on unsuspecting vegetables.

Daniel lowered his cup. Smiled; worn and tired, but a smile. "This is nice."

Kaoru let out a breath of relief.

* * *

 

"…And now that we've scraped Janet off the ceiling, we can let the CDC handle the funny mushrooms," Colonel Jack O'Neill concluded. "Nice leopard imitation, Doc."

Hot cloth pressed to closed eyes, Dr. Janet Fraiser mumbled something about "catheter" and "ice water".

_Ooo. I think that was a threat_. Jack stifled a snicker. Not wise to tick off the lady who could and would carry it out. Especially given the redhead was just coming down off an accidental exposure to Aindrias' _pader-pabi_ ; alien fungi that looked like ivory beads, munched some nasty little bacteria like Mama's best pizza, and just happened to kick the human patient into funky-colors-land in the process.

"Lady Daire did say something about silk ropes being an integral part of the treatment," Daniel observed. "She wanted to tell you more, Sam, but I think there's some sort of taboo against discussing all the details in public. Or at least in mixed company. Considering what they usually use it to treat." Red flushed his cheeks. "Or at least, they implied it was used to treat…."

"I think I get the idea." Sam Carter shook her head. "Sir, we'd better have a female translator ready if SG-9's going to start talks with Lady Daire's people."

"Noted and on the general's desk, Carter. Anybody got anything else to add? Teal'c?"

"I wish to review the videotape of their bola demonstration." The Jaffa's frown had a contemplative edge.

"Pry a copy out of R&D," Jack suggested. "Corporal Shane's pretty good about squirreling away backups." Where most people did triplicate, the tall brunette went for quadruplicate. Which had saved them all a heck of a lot of grief when various could-be-interesting notes and records just up and vanished somewhere between here and the Pentagon. _NID slime._ "Okay. Anything else?" Jack waited a minute, noted the tired satisfaction on his team's faces. "All right, kids. Let's blow this pop stand."

"So what's on your mind?" Jack asked straight out as he and Daniel headed for the base elevators. Sam had already left to look in on Cassie for the night; Janet seemed fine, but base regs wouldn't allow her out of here for at least another twelve hours. "You seem a little…" He waved a hand. "Distracted."

"Hmm? Oh." Daniel smiled faintly. "I had a weird night."

"Oh yeah?" Visions of white-clad spies danced in Jack's head. _Only if it was that kind of weird, he might not tell you._

Depressing thought. But true. He and Daniel had grown apart this last year. Heck, they'd been falling away from each other since Sha'uri's death. He had only himself to blame that he hadn't noticed it before.

_Better notice now, Jack. Archangel doesn't waste time when it comes to grabbing people he wants. Let things go the way they're going, and if Hammond can't pull something out of a hat, that white disaster'll snaffle one of the best guys you ever knew into the Firm faster than you can say "undercover op"._ Jack hid a sigh. _Maybe tonight will help._

"I _think_ ," Daniel said carefully, "I just met the new tenants in the apartment under mine."

Jack raised a brow, Teal'c-style. "You think?"

"I was pretty out of it. And one of them was dressed like a Meiji-era swordsman. So I'm not quite sure."

"And a Magi is…."

"Meiji," Daniel corrected. "Late 1860's, early 1870's Japan. I think. Except for the red hair, he looked like something right out of a wood block print. Hakama, gi, tabi - the whole works."

A redheaded Japanese samurai. Yep, that fit the weird box. _Maybe I should - nah, Daniel didn't go near the mushrooms._ "And he was doing what in your apartment building?"

"Laundry." Daniel shrugged. "Then he invited me up for tea with his wife."

Right. Jack almost headed them back to the infirmary anyway. Only - this _was_ Daniel. Goa'uld invited the man in for tea. Why not a weird neighbor? "You need to get out more."

"Tell me about it."

"I'm serious." Jack stepped out on sublevel nine, headed across to the elevator that would take them the rest of the way up. "I asked around… I found someplace I thought you'd like to see. If you don't have any plans tonight."

Behind glass, blue eyes looked wary. "It's not Jello wrestling, is it?"

* * *

 

Down in the infirmary, a creamy swirl of energy pouted in a forgotten corner. The doctor-lady had been so tasty, so unafraid, so different from the humans it was used to sharing with. So much _fun_ ….

But her sustenance had drained away so quickly - too quickly. And then the other-strange-humans had grabbed her, and it had felt _upset_ and _angry_. Just like home-humans.

Phooey.

_Not_ fun. Not fun _at all._

So it had slipped out of the doctor-lady's nose and mouth, unnoticed. It was used to being unnoticed; only a few home-humans could see the white wisps of its kind, and those few usually gibbered about _corpse-smoke_ and ended up running off cliffs.

Silly creatures.

And it was still _hungry_.

Extending a tendril of itself up along the odd walls, it felt about for another host. Not here… not here….

Someone who could support it would come by soon enough. It could wait.

But not _too_ long.

* * *

 

"Kamiya Kasshin Ryu?" Daniel frowned at the neat Japanese characters over the door. "Never heard of it."

"Neither had I, until about a week ago." Jack craned his head at the black squiggles, turned his attention back to the simple printed _Kendo and Self-Defense_ beside it. "Shane was right. This place really doesn't advertise."

"Corporal Shane comes here?"

"A few times a week, she said. She was going through a bad patch a few months back-"

Daniel nodded. "Messy divorce, right."

_How does he_ do _that?_ "Anyway. She said this place really helped. Style's mostly in Japan, but there's a few schools in America and Canada. This dojo's been up and running about a year." Hands stuffed in the pockets of his leather jacket, Jack shot the archaeologist a careful look. "I called and asked if we could sit in on a class. You mind?"

Wary. Definitely wary, from that look Daniel was aiming at the door. But interest was starting to light blue eyes. "They really teach swords?"

"Said she had the _bokken_ whacks to prove it." _Here, fishie, fishie, fishie…._

"Well." Daniel straightened his shoulders. "Why not?"

_Open space, lots of headroom, nice_ , Jack thought, scanning the dojo as they walked in. A few students were already inside unfolding mats to fall on. Most were in street clothes or sweatpants, though there was one small, delicate redhead dressed like an aikido instructor. _Except for the pink gi_ , Jack thought, looking around for the man he'd spoken to on the phone. _Lady, where on earth did you pick up a pink gi?_

With a quiet word to the girl smoothing out the mat, the redhead turned.

_Oops._ She _is a_ he.

Old habits die hard, particularly when you're running into bad guys all over the galaxy. The ex-Black Ops colonel automatically catalogued the redhead as the small man walked their way. Five-foot-two, long red bangs, longer hair caught back in a blue ribbon, a little over a hundred pounds, all bone and muscle and a kind, disarming smile.

And an old pair of blade-scars. One traced a faded slash along the cheekbone, almost down to the chin; the second crossed it, slightly younger.

_Taking on this guy_ , Jack thought, suddenly tense, _Would be about as smart as stepping on a rattlesnake._

Soundless, graceful walk. Relaxed ready stance. Sword worn properly at his side - and from those tiny marks of wear on sheath and hilt, it sure as heck wasn't there for decoration.

_Sweet mother of Mary. Where did_ you _come from?_

"Jack O'Neill. I called earlier, Mr. - Himura?" Jack ventured. _A redheaded Japanese, cross-shaped scar… oh, no way._

"That I am." Himura inclined his head. "Daniel."

_It figures._ Jack resisted the urge to pound his skull on the doorway behind them. _Oh man, he'll never believe I didn't set this up._

"Kenshin?" Daniel blurted. "Is this your dojo?"

"Ah, no. That honor belongs to my wife." Kenshin made a slight motion toward the back, where a few folding chairs leaned against the wall. "If you would? Some of our students are skittish, that they are."

"I see that." Jack kept his voice low as they walked to the back of the room. There weren't any visible bruises, but he could see a few flinches as certain students took in _large, male, unknown_. "We can head out if there's a problem."

"They are stronger than they know." Kenshin smiled. "If you have questions, Ms. Kamiya and I will answer them after class."

"Well." Jack unfolded a chair and sat down, trying his best to project _who me, harmless_. "Your neighbor?"

Daniel wrestled with his own chair, finally getting jointed metal to cooperate. "I thought I'd dreamed him."

"I can see why." Jack cupped his chin in his hand as a dark-haired Japanese lady in gi and loose jeans came in and Kenshin motioned the class together. "I have got to see this."

* * *

 

_They're good_. Daniel watched with avid interest, ignoring the specific moves to concentrate on the subtle interactions between teacher and student. _They're really, really good_.

Kaoru led the class as a whole, a bright, firm voice that guided her pupils through various beginning moves of hand and wooden practice sword, then quickly broke people up into groups of various skill levels to practice more advanced forms. Raw beginners thumped on the mats, learning to fall. Others donned masks and light padding to bow and pair off with each other, with hands, or swords, or one of an assortment of odd items from a box at the side of the room.

_Plastic knife_ , Daniel identified in one hand. _And - is that a hand mixer?_

Cord and all. The archaeologist swallowed, realizing just what that particular pair was reenacting under Kenshin's watchful gaze. _A fight in a kitchen. Slow, controlled - but anything goes, anything at all._

Hence the masks, as the plug snapped against mesh over the opponent's eyes.

"Hold." Kenshin stepped in before the knife could rise again. "Good." He held out empty hands. "Forms now."

The woman with the knife yielded her weapon easily, grinning as she scooted toward her gear. Pulling out her bokken, she waited until the current form was finished, then joined the group of swords working with Kaoru.

Her partner with the mixer hesitated, still shaking. "But-"

"But?" Kenshin prompted when she froze.

"But," the taller woman swallowed. "I wasn't finished!"

_No, but you would have been_ , Daniel thought, wincing. He'd seen that frantic, adrenaline-ruled style of fighting from both sides now; his own first confused tangles with Jaffa or angry planet-dwellers, and his more recent, reluctant practice bouts with new SGC recruits. Like anyone still getting over the idea of _I may have to hurt somebody_ , the blonde had put up a valiant but frenzied defense. So long as her opponent kept a cool head and kept coming, that knife would have been between her ribs.

"The strike to the eyes - good. It distracts. It causes pain. But it will not stop," Kenshin said matter-of-factly. "You must learn to control your opponent's range, Alice. For that the sword is best, that it is."

And so it went for the rest of the class. Kaoru demonstrated moves from the formal sword to down-and-dirty street fighting, her enthusiasm for her craft wrapping her students in a warm confidence Daniel hadn't felt since one of his anthropology professors opened up the marvelous wonder that was the diversity of human cultures. Kenshin was a shadow to Kaoru's flame, approaching those who shook or grimaced with frustration, subtly correcting a stance here, an angle of attack there.

"He's better than she is," Jack murmured, too low for the class to hear.

_He is?_ Though that did seem to fit with what Daniel felt, watching Kenshin move. "So why is he…."

"Better fighter. She's a better teacher."

Oh. That made sense.

"And comes to the bare-handed stuff, she _is_ better." Jack's expression was relaxed, almost lazy; but his eyes had a subtle alertness that meant he was focused on every move. "Himura needs a weapon."

"No kidding," Daniel muttered. "I mean, considering the average height in Colorado, it'd be like Sam trying to take on some of the guys _we_ run into, bare-handed." Human against Jaffa. Usually nasty, brutish, and short - unless the human had a gun.

"Point." Jack shifted in his chair. "I didn't know, you know. That he was your neighbor."

_He thinks I think he set this up_ \- Daniel fought the urge to bury his head in his hands. "Jack. _I_ didn't know he was my neighbor 'til last night. If I hadn't seen him on the washer, I still wouldn't know."

"It's just one hell of a weird coincidence," Jack shrugged.

Daniel nodded, accepting the glimpse of Jack's paranoia as just another of those things that made living around his friend so interesting. Black Ops types didn't like coincidences.

_And spies don't believe in them_.

Oh yeah. He _really_ wanted to talk to his new neighbor.

_And it looks like you're about to get your chance_. Kaoru had gathered the class together once more, leading people through cooling stretches, then motioning people to sit.

"Before we go tonight, I want you to remember one thing." Kaoru gathered her sweaty students with her eyes. "Kamiya Kasshin Ryu was created as the way of _katsujin-ken_ , the swords that give life. Now, we don't always use real _swords_ anymore, people carrying big pieces of steel tend to get all kinds of weird looks-" She gave Kenshin a wry glance.

"Oro?" Violet eyes blinked innocently.

A chuckle ran through the crowd.

"But if the weapons change, the way doesn't. The goal is to stay alive, ladies and gentlemen. Look out for yourselves, and look out for each other. We've got the usual numbers posted; you can pick up a flyer if you need one. And I'll see you next class!"

"Usual numbers, Ms. Kamiya?" Jack asked as the students thinned out.

"Shelters, Mr. O'Neill," Kaoru said plainly. "Clinics. Some treatment centers. A few lawyers who know how to argue self-defense cases. People don't usually start in this style. They come because the world's already hurt them." She smiled, bright as sunshine. "The best students are the ones who really want to live."

"Kind of a switch from _bushido_ ," Jack noted.

"You have seen much death, O'Neill." Kenshin's footfalls were a bare whisper on the polished floor. "You know it holds neither beauty, nor glory. It is simply death."

"I have, huh?" Jack's brow rose. "Funny. I would've pegged you as the type to go for samurai."

"The Kamiyas haven't been samurai for over a century," Kaoru shrugged.

"And the Himuras were farmers, that they were." Kenshin regarded them quietly. "One need not be born to the sword to use it well. And only when one must."

_And if that phrasing isn't a hit from the clue stick…._ "Can I talk to you for a minute? Outside?" Daniel put in, a little more sharply than he'd meant to. _Damn it, I don't want to insult him, I just-_

_I don't want to be lied to. Again. Ever_.

Red bangs drifted in the breeze from the door, shading violet. "Of course."

"Who are you?" Daniel demanded, once they were safely out in night air. Jack was good, but he couldn't hear through doors. "Who sent you? What are you doing in my building?"

"Kenshin Himura," came the easy reply. "As for your building, I told you truth; our last residence did suffer an unfortunate fate, and, not being of the _kami_ who may hide whole palaces in a raindrop, Kaoru and I must live _somewhere_. As for who sent us…" Kenshin shook his head. "We were not sent. Simply asked."

"Asked?" Daniel demanded. His stomach felt as if he were at the top of a roller-coaster, in that hair-fine moment before the sickening plunge. _I knew it was too good to be true, I knew it…._

"Asked," Kenshin said firmly. "Kaoru and I, we live in the light. Honest folk, that we are. Yet not so honest that we do not have friends who call the shadows home." He drew a picture from a thin wallet. "Aoshi."

Tentatively Daniel took it, tilting it toward a streetlight to study the cool face of a tall, dark-haired Japanese man caught with blade in hand, charcoal-gray trench coat flaring about his quick stride. "I don't know him."

"You may never, that you might not." Kenshin took the photo back. "Yet he knows another in the shadows who studies the blade; a white wolf of a man, who does know you. And who worries, that he does."

Daniel stiffened. "Who?"

"The name I was given," Kenshin said carefully, "Was Michael."

_Son of a-_ Daniel really, really wanted to hit something. _Can't he leave anything alone?_ "So this was a setup all along."

"It was not." Kenshin's tone hardened, silk into steel. "I would have spoken to you last night, had you been awake enough to listen. We have taught at this dojo for a year; that you may check with whomever you choose. We have lived here, and learned the rhythms of this city, and may do so for many years to come. We help, and we heal, and we teach those who listen how to help themselves. And if whatever danger Aoshi and your friend fear from that mountain comes to pass, we will be here to face it."

_Danger from the Mountain_. Daniel swallowed. Odd; in the streetlights, Kenshin's eyes looked almost… amber. "What did he tell you?"

"Very little." And it must have been a trick of the light, for violet smiled at him. "Perhaps we might discuss it tomorrow. Over tea?"

* * *

 

Tasty, tasty other-humans.

The corpse-smoke drifted through the maze of gray walls, sipping here, tasting there, never lingering too long. The first other-human doctor-lady had shown its presence too quickly. It would not risk being found again so soon. Finding led to binding, and then to painful, angry chants that would drive it out and away from the tastiness.

Mean creatures. Food wasn't supposed to fight back.

Home-creatures didn't fight back. Some lived amongst the brood mushrooms, even fed on them, essence all but untouchable; it could scratch the edges of their energies, but that was all. Some lived in higher ground or by running water, away from the white fungi; those were filling meals when they did stumble in, and every one of its kind hungered for them.

Humans were different. Humans risked gathering the mushrooms, even though their energies had no natural defense. But the defenses they did raise, once they suspected a corpse-smoke was near….

Nasty, mean creatures. It wasn't as if they _killed_ humans feeding.

At least, not _too_ many.

Hmm. Taste and taste, flickers of emotion, images….

Images of _other_ other-humans. Whole _nests_ of them!

And still, not one flicker of awareness of its presence.

The corpse-smoke wriggled with glee, causing its current host to giggle. And pause, and look around.

The creamy energy stilled itself, waiting for the flicker of surprise to pass. More other-humans.…

Now, how could it get there?

* * *

 

"Ouch." Daniel raised a brow as the SGC's elevator doors closed the next morning. "That colored up good."

Jack took his hand away from his bruised cheekbone. _Too damn early for this._ "You're snickering."

"Am not."

"Are too."

"Am not." But the tips of Daniel's ears were red. "Jack, if you had to let Kaoru take a swing at you, why didn't you put on a mask?"

"Wanted to see her sword-work." Especially since the lady had managed to dodge or brush off just about every question he'd aimed at her background, cheerful as Daniel with a new rock to play with. _Honest. The lady feels honest. But there's something going on here, and I'm going to figure out what. Wonder what Sam's found by now?_

"Guess you did." Daniel turned a bit redder.

"Daniel…?"

"It's nothing." The archaeologist shrugged. "I just… had a weird morning, that's all."

"Oh yeah?"

Coffee in hand, Daniel had walked out onto his balcony, enjoying the faint sounds of a city just waking up. There was a quiet coo of rock doves, a nearby toot of horns as someone pulled through a yellow light, an edge-of-hearing whine of a hair dryer as one of his fellow tenants got ready to face the day….

A faint, cheerful giggling.

Daniel pried his eyes a little more open. Giggling. Definitely. Somewhere above him? He peered up toward the roof. "Is someone up there?"

"Oro..." A mane of red hair appeared over the edge, very disheveled. " _Ohayo…_."

More giggles. Oddly familiar giggles, though Daniel couldn't remember hearing anything like that since the last time he and Sha'uri had… uh-oh. "What are you _doing_ up there?"

Was it his imagination, or was Kenshin's face lightly flushed? " _Anou_ -"

The giggling stopped. "Get _back_ here, Battousai!"

Kaoru. Definitely. And with a tone like _that_ -

"Oro!" Red hair was yanked out of sight.

Coffee in his stunned hand, Daniel decided that maybe breakfast _inside_ was a better idea.

* * *

 

Checking her watch, Sam tapped her foot. _This had better be good, sir. I don't like using SGC resources to check up on civilians. Even if they are in Daniel's building._

Elevator doors slid open. "-On the _roof?_ " Jack asked, grin wide enough to show all his teeth.

"They probably had a futon," Daniel muttered, bright red. "Jack, do you mind?"

"Oh, a _futon_. Sure. Makes sense." Jack nodded, stepping out of the elevator. "What kind of a pet name is Battousai, anyway?"

"I don't think it's a pet name, Jack. I read somewhere that it refers to a master of rapid sword-drawing technique…." Daniel shot Jack a dirty look as the colonel lost his battle with laughter. "You have a sick, _sick_ mind."

"Sir?" Sam asked, at a loss.

The colonel waved her off, still snickering.

"New neighbors." Daniel rolled his eyes. "Maybe I should invite them to check out _your_ roof."

"Nope." Jack gulped in air, calmed down to the occasional snicker. "That's my spot."

"I knew you weren't just up there for the telescope."

"What can I say?" The colonel buffed his fingers on his jacket. "When you got it, you got it."

"Right," Daniel said at last. "Sam? I'm going to be writing up a basic Aindrias vocabulary for SG-9's translator. Let me know if Jack gets it." Hands in his jacket pockets, he walked out of sight.

"Sir?" Sam's eyes narrowed, suspicious.

Jack took a few steps down the hall to check that Daniel was indeed out of earshot. "Well, whatever else they are, they got a good marriage going. What'd you find?"

"Not much." Sam beckoned him toward her lab. "If this wasn't Daniel, sir…."

"I don't like it either, Carter," Jack admitted. "But you know the rock-hound. Leave one booby-trap in the middle of a ten-mile desert, and he'll trip over it."

"I know." And a pair of people dangerous enough to set off Jack O'Neill's radar cropping up in Daniel's building - well, it could be one heck of a booby-trap. "But I think we're chasing shadows on this one."

"Kaoru Kamiya, 22, born in San Francisco, accredited master of Kamiya Kasshin Ryu," Jack read off the search summary on her screen. "Parents deceased, couple of cousins… bachelor's degree in art. Married three years ago to Kenshin Himura, 24, accredited master, so on and so on… whoa." He scanned the next screen. "That's a lot of charges."

"I condensed the list," Sam said wryly. "Most of them were either dropped, or dismissed as self-defense. Looks like they practice what they preach."

"Got to be the pink gi," Jack muttered. At her questioning look, he elaborated. "Himura."

Sam raised a blonde brow, combining that info with the description the colonel had given her, examining at it from the perspective of the average over-muscled guy looking for an easy mark. _Short, skinny, girly guy in pink, with a pretty blue-eyed Japanese young lady just an inch taller than he is. Ouch._

"You said most?" Jack prompted.

"Well… looks like Himura pled no contest to a couple of the property-damage ones." Sam pointed out one in particular. "Sir, how do you take down a light-pole without a car? Or some kind of heavy machinery?"

"Good question." Jack tapped his fingers on her desk. "Why don't we ask?"

* * *

 

_Okay, so if he fell from_ that _angle…._ Eyeing a photo of suspicious blood spatters, Detective Ryan Saitou O'Connell sipped the sludge that passed for department coffee, grimaced, and wished for a slug of milk. Or maybe just a Mickey Finn to end his misery. _Damn, still haven't broken Chappell of making Navy coffee._

"Carson PD, how may I direct your call?" A pause. "Can I have some ID, sir?" A longer pause. "Okay, checks out… just a moment, I'll transfer you to Detective O'Connell."

His phone trilled. With an imploring glance toward the one cracked white tile in the ceiling, Ryan picked up. "Homicide. Detective O'Connell speaking."

"Homicide? Huh." The speaker sounded male, older, and not easily shaken. "This is Colonel O'Neill, from the Mountain."

Great. Military trouble. Though this O'Neill didn't sound quite like any of the local MPs he'd run into. "Yes, sir? How can we help?"

"Don't mean to take up too much of your time, just need a little background. Says here that three months ago you were the arresting officer in a property-damage incident on Spruce Lane?"

_Damn it, Kenshin, what kind of mess have you fallen into now? Ojiisan warned me you couldn't stay out of trouble if someone chained you in a padded cell… never mind. We'll probably get the call later_. "Yeah, had to do it. Happened right in front of me and my partner. Though just between you, me, and the wallpaper, Colonel, that stunt saved our asses. We were in the middle of arresting this fine, upstanding young citizen for various crimes against everybody and his dog, half the neighbors wanted his blood, half his crew wanted ours, backup was late… anyway. We were about to have a riot right there before that pole came down."

"Kenshin Himura." O'Neill's tone wasn't a question.

"Yep. One swing."

Silence on the line. "Excuse me, Detective, I'm not sure I'm hearing you right. Are you saying the guy took down a light-pole… with a sword?"

Ryan grinned. "Sure got the crowd to back off."

"How the hell did he do that?"

"Some weird martial arts trick, I guess." _Sword skill, focused_ chi, _and one hell of a lot of_ youki _mixed in. Man, regular people are blind._ "Anyway, after that he just came along with us, nice and quiet." _Thank god. If 'Jiisan can't take him, I sure can't._

"Just came along." O'Neill sounded highly doubtful.

"Yep. Apologized for the trouble." Ryan shrugged. "He's really a nice guy." _Unless you get him mad._ "So, anything else I can help you with?"

"No, I think that about covers it," O'Neill said, distracted. "Thanks."

Ryan hung up. Eyed the phone.

Picked it up, and dialed the new number scribbled in his address book. "Uncle Kenshin? I think you'd better know…."

* * *

 

_Just_ who _is Kenshin Himura and why did you set him on me?_

The cursor paused on Daniel's monitor. _For the second, I didn't "set" Himura on you,_ Archangel typed back. _There's only about four people in this world who could set Himura on anyone, and I assure you, I'm not one of them. For the first…._

_Kenshin Himura is a sanctuary._

Daniel raised an eyebrow. _?_

_Hmm, some background…. You may or may not be aware that the United States and Japan, as part of their security treaty and general intelligence cooperation, declare their high-level operatives to each other. So many of us know_ of _each other, and no few of us_ know _each other._

Daniel nodded slowly. A spy's life could be very, very lonely. It could be good to talk with someone who - well, might not be telling the truth, but at least you'd have an idea what they were lying about. _Aoshi?_

_I've dealt with Aoshi on matters of mutual concern. He's one of the most honorable people I've met, in or out of the business_ , came the swift reply. _And apparently he picked up on some of the more…_ unusual _events around your current locale faster than I did. Specifically, a nasty flux in local energy fields when the Stargate locked onto a black hole? I believe you were on a dig with SG-6 on PX3-808 at the time._

Daniel swallowed. Jack and Sam still had a hard time talking about it, but he'd seen enough of the aftermath to have a fairly good idea of what had happened that day. The iris shattered like glass, a team lost… and two weeks outside the mountain slowed to two days inside the SGC.

_Aoshi did not, and to my knowledge still does not, know the precise nature of what's going on under NORAD_ , Archangel went on. _But he's dealt with enough unusual circumstances to know when something is very wrong. I suspect if anyone asked Himura to move to the Cheyenne area, it was he._

_Himura is not in the business. Not directly; not even peripherally, as some pilots of our mutual acquaintance remain. He is simply Aoshi's friend, who provides aid and comfort to those endangered on his doorstep… and who has a knack for handling odd or unusual circumstances_.

Daniel mulled that over for a minute. _But you did ask him about me._

_Not directly_ , Archangel typed back. _I noticed some of Aoshi's people moving in the area, checked, and found the Kamiya dojo. They're a good school; some of my own people learn the style. Once I knew it was Himura with Kamiya, I did mention to Aoshi there was someone in the area I was worried about, who might possibly be interested in the school if he heard about it, and that I would appreciate it if he would consider your presence before taking any hasty action. That's all._ A pause. _How on earth did you meet Himura?_

_Doing laundry in my basement_ , Daniel typed wryly.

_Snicker_.

_Then Jack took me "somewhere he thought I'd like"._

Blank space on the screen. Then-

_Laughter_ skirled across the surface of his mind; warm and wry and surprising as violets hidden among moss.

Daniel blinked, leaning back as Michael's giddy amusement wrapped around him from untold miles away. If he'd needed any more proof that Archangel hadn't set this up…. _Michael?_ he typed.

A pause. _Marella_ , came the neat reply. _Michael's currently laughing too hard to type. Did you still need more information on Himura?_

_Well…._


	2. Chapter 2

Down, _again!_

The corpse-smoke withdrew from its current host and sulked in a corner of the moving box. Every time it tried to dwell within one of the other-humans long enough to urge it _up_ and _out_ , the creature would either swallow an oddly-colored pebble with water and stubbornly stay in place, or take the moving box down and head for the doctor-lady's den.

This wasn't working.

So. If it couldn't make one of the other-humans carry it out of this stone nest...

It'd just have to climb out itself.

It would take time. And a great deal of energy. Energy it had planned to use to spawn, in this place so empty of dangers.

But there were many, many other-humans here. If it could just sip from each one it passed, using the energy from one to bring it to the next...

And what was a day lost, with so much prey so close?

* * *

 

_Konastha-ee_ , Daniel reviewed the last entry from his phonetic notes in his head, absently noting the first gold light of early sunset gleaming off the kanji above the doorway as he walked through. _"Be quiet." But Daire used an "ee", where I think some of her advisors used an "ei"... honorific, maybe? Status mark? "Be quiet, greater to lesser power"?_

"Eeek!"

"Son of a-"

A breeze rifled his hair; Daniel sidestepped absently. _I don't think it was a gender mark, or the advisors would have used "ee". But if it was lord-to-underling, all of the advisors should have used "ei". Unless we're misreading the situation, and Lady Daire isn't as much in charge as she'd like us to think. Ouch, that could get messy. Maybe it's a tense mark? "You shall be quiet"?_

A foot landed near his toes; Daniel dodged, stamped in swift counter. Light counter; that foot wasn't nearly built enough to be an adult.

_Wait - it_ could _be a status-by-age mark. The advisors using "ei" were all younger, twenties and thirties; the ones using "ee" were fifty-plus. Lady Daire wasn't, but it's common to call a leader "elder" no matter what the real age-_

_"Yamete."_

Polished wood touched his brow. Daniel froze.

"I notice," Kenshin said calmly, bokken touching Daniel's forehead as a gleam of humor lit violet eyes, "That while your mind was elsewhere, your body did duck."

"Ah..." Duck? Lifting his head away from the wooden sword, Daniel glanced behind him-

One bokken was quivering against a mat. Three masked students were scattered in his wake, panting in stunned amazement. A spiky-haired brunet barely into his teens was rubbing his instep and glaring at the archaeologist. And all the class was looking at him.

Oops.

Kaoru cleared her throat. Pointed to the side of the room, out of the main line of bouts. "That way."

_"Gomen nasai,"_ Daniel apologized, bowing as an errant student to the interrupted master. He stepped out to the edge of the room, feeling a hot blush sweep his cheeks. "I'm very sorry, Kamiya-sensei."

Some of the fire softened out of the azure glare. "Don't do it again."

"Definitely not." Daniel all but tiptoed to the back of the room, making himself a small, quiet huddle in the corner as the interrupted class got back to business. He listened as the clack of wood on wood, wood on padding turned rhythmic, too embarrassed to raise his head to watch. Funny, how the ground never opened up and swallowed you when you wanted it to.

Blue paper rustled down in front of his eyes. Daniel caught the folded flyer automatically. Looked up.

"Classes are not held the same time every day, that they are not." Kenshin stood before him, a quiet smile touching his face. "Come. Show me you know how to fall."

* * *

 

_This one_ , Kenshin thought, guiding their newest pupil through his first clumsy attempts to grip a sword-hilt, _has been through war._

He could see it in the calluses where shaking hands had gripped a gun, the miniscule hesitations as unseen scars caught muscle, the twitch of nerves when a threat stepped too close. He saw it in the relaxed tumble of Daniel's fall; a good fall, trained and honed until it was reflex, bringing the archaeologist back to feet or knees or whatever stance a quick glance told him would be best suited for facing his opponent.

_A dangerous man. But not so dangerous as he fears_ , Kenshin thought, stepping back to watch and correct as Daniel swung. _With the students, he avoided. He countered. Yet he did not strike in return._

Though he could have. One so skilled _should_ have; either that, or woken himself enough to realize he had walked into a bout, and retreat. For all his skill, Daniel's training seemed uneven. Lacking not in competence, but in heart.

_I wonder_....

Deliberately, Kenshin roused the Battousai.

Daniel's swing wavered. Blue eyes went wide behind safety lenses; a head whipped toward the sudden, chill sense of deadly threat-

Kenshin damped his youki, concealing it behind the quiet chi of the harmless wanderer. _So._

This gentle, dangerous scholar could sense chi.

_And where and when did that gift wake in you, young one? It runs deep; you trust it as you would your own breath. Yet you've trained it not at all. Whose care were you in, that they did not see the signs?_

That he could determine later. What was critical now was to tell Kaoru their new student bore a two-edged sword. One that could be honed to a lethal, protective edge... or kill him if it remained untrained.

No wonder Daniel had walked right through two fights. The students felt _safe_ here, protected. And their chi responded; warm, unthreatening, eager to compete - yet without a trace of bloodlust.

_You sensed no threat, so you saw no threat_. Kenshin restrained an exasperated shake of his head. _And were it not for trained reflex, which saw only_ object, _not_ opponent, _Karen's bokken would have laid you out cold as a snow-sculpture._

"A hundred swings," Kenshin instructed, and went to tend the rest of the class.

_Daniel, Daniel. What_ will _I do with you?_

* * *

 

_Ninety-six, ninety-seven...okay, that was weird_ , Daniel thought, finishing the last few swings with trembling arms. One moment he'd been taking his first uncorrected swing under Kenshin's watchful eye-

The next he had known, _known_ , bone-deep, that there was a threat standing _right there_ , lethal as Jack in obstacle-clearing mode.

And he'd blinked, and it was Kenshin again.

_One hundred_. Breathing hard, Daniel lowered the wooden sword, not letting its tip touch the ground. _Talk about weird... exactly_ when _did I say I was going to take this class?_

Or maybe his imagination hadn't been playing tricks on him, and underneath the harmless façade Kenshin was more like Jack than he let on. Up to and including the tendency to steamroller people into heading the direction he thought best.

"Good." The redheaded swordsman was in front of him once more, violet eyes unreadable. "Now. The next lesson." A slim hand waved toward the folding chairs. "For the rest of the class, watch me."

"Watch you what?" Daniel asked warily, unfolding stiff metal.

"Simply watch. Your mind will wander, that it will. Guide it back. Be gentle." Humor glinted in violet as Kenshin patted the archaeologist's head. "The poor creature is obviously overworked."

Daniel sputtered as the swordsman swished back into the flow of the class. _Yep. A_ lot _more like Jack than he lets on..._

_Ergh. Where'd he go?_

And thus began over an hour of visual hide-and-seek.

_Red hair ought to stand out like a bonfire!_

Sometimes it did. Sometimes it didn't. Five minutes trying to keep track of the redheaded instructor led Daniel to one unshakable conclusion: Kenshin was a master of what Jack called the _ghost step_.

_Know where your opponent's looking. Know when he_ can't _see you. Use that one instant of visual distraction to slip clear, like a ninja._

Kenshin's uncanny speed turned his "step" from effective to pure magic. Blink - he was there. Blink - he was gone.

_Only it's more than that_ , Daniel realized, focusing back on the instructor as Kenshin guided the brunette who'd nearly parted the archaeologist's hair through one of the more advanced forms. _Sometimes he's more - visible - than others? That doesn't make sense._

Yet it seemed to be true. Kenshin stepped through a forward thrust, the brunette following-

_Gone again!_ Daniel began to look aside, wondering how the swordsman had vanished right in the middle of a demonstration...

_He... didn't?_

Red hair still glimmered under the lights, settling over pink-clad shoulders as Kenshin finished the form.

_But I don't feel him_ -

Daniel's breath caught as that sense of _presence_ roared back into flaming life. Across the room, violet eyes caught his, and winked.

_What the heck?_

And swift as that, the sense of _Kenshin_ dimmed once more, like a lantern turned down to the barest glimmer of flame.

_Oh. My. Gods._

Daniel watched with a mix of interest and pure, stark terror. Kenshin's hands and bokken took the most innocuous of poses, while that sense of _threat_ flared like a bonfire. Or the swordsman might make one quick slash that - had it been real - would have gutted his opponent like a fish... yet projected no more warning than a falling leaf.

_Michael said he's not an empath. And yet_....

"Karen." Kenshin nodded to the brunette. "Defend."

Mid-level sense of presence now, flaring and dimming as wood clacked on wood and quick feet advanced and retreated across the floor. Strike and block at chest level, knees, chest again.

_That's Kenshin,_ Daniel realized, trying to narrow down that flutter that wasn't _any_ of the five senses he was used to. _And working against him, that's - Karen? Quieter, not as focused. But once you know it's there, it's easier to read, like Sam. Not like Jack, or Teal'c-_

Daniel froze, one finger almost touching his lips.

"Hiyah!"

Kenshin _flared_ , the speed of his strike brushing past Karen's blade as if it were a slow, lazy fly. Wood _thocked_ into padding, one controlled blow that even so drove the student to her knees.

Daniel concentrated on his breathing as Karen found her feet again, and the pair exchanged soft words. He was not going to hyperventilate. He was _not_ going to pass out. Simply. Not.

"Do you see?"

Daniel looked up. "I'm-" He licked his lips. "I'm not sure."

"Those who taught you are skilled warriors. Their chi, like O'Neill's, is clear. Distinct." Kenshin tipped his head back. "Blatantly honest fighting chi."

_When Jack or Teal'c come at me, I_ know _they're coming..._

"But one does not often _fight_ truly skilled warriors. An amateur's energies are unfocused. Muddy. Not easy to read, even for those with eyes to see, if they have not trained. And one who has mastered a chosen art of war..." Violet eyes were deep as night. "That one's chi will flow as the master directs. And that is truly difficult to read, that it is."

Daniel set his jaw. "I don't read chi."

"No?"

Night and fire and lightning-flash-

And violet eyes _shifted_ to pure, smoldering amber.

Chair metal bit into Daniel's hands as his back hit the wall. The peril in front of him hadn't moved, but he wasn't fooled. Simple metal wouldn't block this wooden sword. Death was merely waiting for that perfect moment, when one quick blow would send everything he was spiraling into endless dark...

"Mou ii!"

Startled, Daniel jerked his gaze back to-

Violet. Gentle. And tinged with sadness. _"Yahari,"_ Kenshin said quietly, one hand motioning toward the floor. "You will not need so frail a defense against me, that you will not."

Chill sweat trickling down his neck, Daniel put the chair down. "How?"

Kenshin smiled. Glanced towards Kaoru, who had Alice aside as the last of the other students made their chattering way out the door. "Only one who saw with his soul instead of his eyes would have wandered so careless among our swords."

Daniel mulled that over as they tidied up the dojo. Sighed as they walked into the near-empty parking lot. "So what can I do?"

"Learn to pay attention..." Violet widened slightly. Daniel felt something sweep past him, like a tingle of static. "Back!"

And Kaoru yanked Alice aside, a breath before a heavy hand would have clamped on the blonde's shoulder. "Rick!" Alice gasped.

_Rick and friends_ , Daniel realized, looking over the snickering lumps of muscle sauntering out from behind a flame-painted van, tire irons in hand. The archaeologist's hand almost reached for the gun that wasn't there; fisted by his side. Four on four. Even odds, on the face of it. _Only Alice is too scared to fight... and they outweigh us two to one._

A yeasty reek of beer wafted his way as Rick made another grab for the shivering blonde; Kaoru barely shoved her immobile body aside in time. "Where have you been, huh?" he snarled.

"Away from you," Kaoru snapped. "Where she belongs!"

"I'm not talking to _you_ , bitch!"

Violet narrowed.

"Hounds have better manners than bloodthirsty swine like you, Morrson," Kaoru growled.

"Feisty, huh?" One of Rick's buddies licked his lips. "Don't you worry, little girl. You're next."

_"Little girl?"_ Kaoru's hand closed on her bokken.

Mentally Daniel wadded up the "peaceful solution" option and tossed it in a figurative trashcan. "Should I even point out they've got big metal sticks?" he murmured.

Blush stood out like blood against Alice's chalky face. "I've - I've got a restraining order! You're not supposed to _be_ here!"

"What, I'm supposed to let some piece of paper keep you from cheating on me with a pencil-necked dweeb like that?" Rick flung a ham-sized hand Daniel's way. "God, your taste sucks!"

"Hey!" Daniel protested.

"Hell, you should know, Rick!" The blonde shook with anger as well as fear. "I picked _you_ , didn't I?"

"Why, you little-" Tire irons lifted.

Kenshin sighed. "Hurting people always seems so pointless." Metal keened against metal. "Anyone who dislikes seeing the doctor, please leave. Now."

"Shut your-"

Tire irons slashed through empty air.

Nobody's _that fast-_

But bodies were flying, and men howling, and iron swung out of the melee as he helped Kaoru drag a screaming, clawing Alice back-

_Oh, shit_.

Hardened steel bounced off arm and head, flinging stars in its wake. Daniel yelped and ducked the blow he knew would follow-

It never came.

A blaze of red hair flew up, almost seeming to hang in midair, before coming down in one swift flash of steel-

"Ryuu Tsui Sen!"

Steel crashed down on Rick's collarbone. He crumpled.

Kenshin touched down in a soft thump of sandals, barely breathing hard.

_Two swings_ , Daniel realized, touching an all-too-familiar wet stickiness on his head. _Two swings, and four bodies._ "That... wasn't Kamiya Kasshin Ryu."

"I am a very poor teacher," Kenshin said softly, sword still drawn as he watched groaning bodies for any further sign of resistance. "I teach Kaoru's style... but this was first to my hand, and one strikes best with one's heart."

Daniel watched the three unnamed guys curl on themselves, obviously clutching bruised ribs and torn ligaments. _Hard luck, tough guys._ Rick was immobile, gasping; the archaeologist noted the lifeless dangle of his right arm, and bet himself a week's pay that Janet would declare the guy's collarbone shattered. "So that was...?"

"An ancient style from the Sengoku Jidai, that pits one against many... and would do ten times the damage, if not used with a _sakabatou_ ," Kenshin said coolly, absently flicking his wrist twice before he sheathed his reverse blade. "Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu."

_The Honorable Sword of the Flowing Heavens_ , Daniel translated the archaic words. _Ten times the damage-_

His mind pictured those swift strikes with a katana, and froze.

There wouldn't be four idiots groaning here. There would be _pieces_ of four _bodies_ , and blood sliding down that odd-edged blade...

That flick.

An odd double twist of the wrist, flicking metal both ways. _Reflex_ , trained and ingrained as Jack's automatic check of the safety on his P-90.

_Shake the blood off the blade_.

"Someone want to call the cops?" Kaoru sighed, pressing tissues on the woman whimpering in her arms.

"Got it." Anything, rather than think about that one betraying movement that all but screamed Himura's intimate association with blood. Daniel fumbled in his jacket pocket, breathed a sigh of relief that his cell was still in one piece. _Don't hit speed-dial, this isn't an SGC problem. For once._

"911, what is your emergency?"

"Ma'am? We need an ambulance, and cops. Assault, four guys; it's the Kamiya dojo," he managed fuzzily. "Street number is..." God, he couldn't remember past the pounding in his head.

"That's all right, sir." The dispatcher's voice sounded calm, professional... and faintly amused. "We know the address."

* * *

 

"...And that is what happened," Kenshin concluded, watching Sergeant Williams scribble away at his notebook.

"Right." The uniformed policeman closed his book with a sigh. "Of course, you know he's probably going to press charges, even though he's the idiot who violated his restraining order, and got his buddies to attack a perfectly innocent bystander - and insulted your wife?" Williams whistled. "Damn."

"Indeed, he was so foolish," Kenshin acknowledged.

"Himura?"

"Yes?"

"You're a menace." The officer smiled wryly. "Stay in one piece, okay?"

"Kenshin!" Kaoru pounced on him the moment Williams cleared the doorway. "Karen's taking Alice in for the night; she's crying a lot, but she says she's glad it's over. They took Daniel away, I'm not sure if he's all right-"

Kenshin listened, then led the way down the hall. "From the volume, I would say he is well enough."

"No, I am not staying overnight!" Daniel's voice was firm, with an underlying quiver of exhausted anger. "It's a minor concussion. I've had them before. I don't need a hospital stay. I need to go home. To my own bed. Where it's _quiet_."

The nurse's chi was muddy with pent-up frustration. "Dr. Jackson, if you've been concussed before, you know you need to be watched-"

"I will watch him." Kenshin stepped around the curtain, taking in the small bandage reaching into blond hair. "We are neighbors." He arched a brow. "Unless you would prefer another?"

Daniel's mouth opened; snapped shut. "Just get me out of here."

The ride home was quiet. The doorman was startled briefly when they passed through - but apparently by the fact that Daniel had arrived with other tenants, not because he was injured. _So one who would rather negotiate than fight is often wounded_ , Kenshin thought, adding that fact to the growing pile he had assembled.

"Well," Kaoru said brightly, leading the way into their apartment. "Given that we're going to be waking you up every hour or so anyway... would anyone like tea?"

"Yes, thank you," Daniel said politely.

_And you bury fury in courtesy. Truly, you are accustomed to being the lesser threat._ Kenshin sat. "You feel I have deceived you."

"You know how to kill." Daniel's voice was quiet. Colorless.

Kenshin inclined his head. "Any _kenshi_ does."

Behind glass, blue studied him. "Why do you do that? I know you speak English."

"But you are not entirely comfortable in English, that you are not," Kenshin said easily. "What tongue were you born to?"

"My parents were American."

"Sou ka?"

Daniel frowned. "Has anybody ever told you you're annoying?"

Carrying a tea tray back into the room, Kaoru chortled. "You have _no_ idea."

And there was quiet for a time, as they properly poured and appreciated the tea. Or two of them appreciated it; Kenshin could see the mind working behind blue eyes, trying to fit fact with feeling. "I don't know who you are," Daniel said at last.

Setting his cup down with a light clink of porcelain on wood, Kenshin motioned, _go on_.

"I asked... a friend. He said your background information's false. That Aoshi built you a cover, and swore you weren't spies, and out of respect for that he's never done anything to draw attention to you or your family. But he did check you out. And found some... weird things." Daniel wet his lips. "Did you kill someone in Japan? Is that why you're hiding?"

Kenshin met Kaoru's gaze. _Well, my love?_

Kaoru smiled, and shrugged. "We're not hiding, Daniel. We're just not making it obvious where we are."

Daniel's knuckles paled on the low table. "But-"

"Yes."

Daniel started.

"Yes, I have killed," Kenshin said levelly. "Many times." He touched warm porcelain, breathing in the scent of green tea. How often had he used the tea ceremony as a comfort, a way to remind himself that the Battousai was not the whole of his soul? _And yet it reflects that part of me still; the drive for excellence, the care in movement, the swift grace that lasts but a moment and is done._

_A soul divided against itself cannot stand_.

Daniel swallowed, fingers unclenching muscle by muscle. "I knew you were like Jack."

"Yes. And no." Kenshin stared into the past, seeing bright banners, faces young and old full of ideals and hope. And blood, so much blood. "I have never been part of any army. I followed one man, whose ideals I believed in. I killed on orders. I killed to protect my comrades." He could see the blood even now, running like rainwater in the streets of Edo and Kyoto. "And sometimes, I killed those who had the simple misfortune to have seen me."

"You did what you thought was right." Kaoru laid a hand on his arm. "And when it wasn't right, you stopped."

Kenshin laid his hand over her own, delighting in the familiar touch, the light calluses of sword-work. "And you saved me. My angel of _kenjutsu_."

"You saved yourself, Kenshin." Kaoru's smile softened the sting of her words, made them a light shake to bring him back to himself. "I just taught you how to stop running." Sky-blue eyes left his, turned to Daniel. "It's over now. It has been for a long time."

Daniel weighed that. "So if it's over, why not go home?"

"Home is where family is," Kaoru said plainly. "And part of our family asked for our help."

"Two parts," Kenshin added with a nod. "Aoshi, who worries about your mountain. And Ryan, who cares little for the shadows, but much for the people in his guardianship. He knew a Kamiya dojo would go far toward aiding those who might otherwise live in fear."

"Fear kills," Kaoru stated, back straight as if she were about to swing. "Maybe not as fast as a sword. But it's poison. It _hurts_ people."

"Yes, it does." Daniel wove his hands together, studying the flex of finger against finger. "I don't want to be afraid of you."

_Ah._ Kenshin restrained a nod of comprehension as pieces fell into place. "It is Jack you fear."

"I don't-"

Silent, Kenshin waited.

"I did... something he wouldn't understand," Daniel said at last. "If he found out... he'd think I didn't believe in him. And I _do_ believe in him, it's just..."

"There is something which must be done, that he, by his oaths, cannot do," Kenshin finished. "And so, to safeguard his soul, you have walked with open eyes into the shadows."

"He wouldn't... see it that way." Daniel stared into the remnants of his tea. "He'll think I followed someone else in. That I was - lured into betraying him." The archaeologist blinked. "How did you...?"

"I have seen men like O'Neill before. Shatter their oaths, and there is little left to save." Kenshin touched their guest's shoulder. "Take heart. His oaths may be dear to him, but he knows they do not hold you. If he is your friend, he will forgive; that he will."

"Is he always this optimistic?" Daniel asked Kaoru in an obvious aside.

Kaoru looked her husband over with a considering gaze, from the tip of his ponytail to tabi-clad feet. "Nope." A smile twinkled in sky-blue eyes. "Sometimes he's _worse_."

* * *

 

_Oh, what a beautiful morning... not_ , Janet Fraiser thought wryly, rubbing at an ache in her neck as she reviewed the SGC blood supplies. Time to stock up on O and AB negative again; Jack hadn't gotten any holes poked in him lately, which with SG-1's luck meant he was overdue for a nasty bout of surgery. _Ugh, ugh, ugh. Damn nasty alien chemicals, damn headaches, damn embarrassing side-effects..._

Headaches and chemicals she could live with, even when the headaches seemed to have spread through sympathetic stress to every floor of the SGC. It was the embarrassment that made her want to melt through the floor.

_Could have been worse. The tape may be part of SGC history, but at least Sam grabbed the eight-by-tens before Cassie saw them_.

A ringing phone shoved that thought to the back burner. "Infirmary, Fraiser."

"Dr. Fraiser?"

_That_ voice wasn't any she knew from the Mountain. "To whom am I speaking?"

"Kenshin Himura."

Himura, Himura... why did that name sound familiar?

"I am calling for Daniel Jackson... ah. He has found his glasses."

Another hand fumbled with the phone. "Janet?"

"Daniel?" Janet squashed the urge to grab the archaeologist by the scruff of the neck and haul him through the phone lines. "What happened? Who was that? Are you all right?"

"Whoa! I'm okay, well, sort of okay, my head hurts, but that's normal-"

"Daniel. Breathe."

A sigh whistled down the line. "I'm, um, they told me to call in sick this morning. Which I guess I should. If nobody needs me for anything important, at least. I mean, the translation's pretty far, though I think you should tell Major Roscoe that _ee_ could be a tricky honorific and she might want to try sticking to _ei_ -"

"I'll tell her," Janet said firmly, making a note. "Are you sick? Hurt?"

"Just a few bumps and bruises..."

_Great. Evasive. Jack's rubbing off on him too much._ Janet rolled her eyes. _Think positive; if he were really badly hurt, he'd have called Jack, and Jack would have dragged you out of the mountain by your ears._ "What happened?"

"I kind of got into the middle of a fight."

Janet stamped on her immediate reaction of _idiot_ ; this was Daniel, not a Marine. If a fight had found him, it wasn't because he'd gone looking for it. "And...?"

"A guy had a tire iron, I didn't duck fast enough, Kenshin and Kaoru took turns waking me up, they're really nice neighbors, and I'm _fine_ , really. Just a little sore. And tired."

_And concussed_ , Janet filled in. _Terrific_. "Can I talk to Mr. Himura?"

"Ah, okay..."

The phone switched hands. "Doctor," Kenshin said politely.

"How is he, really?"

"A bruise to his left arm where he blocked, three stitches to his scalp, and a mild concussion," Kenshin said matter-of-factly. "We have seen no sign of complications. He was skilled, and fortunate. And very brave, to save a distraught young lady from assailants twice her size."

"Hey!" Janet heard Daniel protest in the background. "I didn't-"

"You helped," a woman's voice cut him off. "I'm not sure I could have gotten Alice out of the way by myself."

And that was Daniel all over. _Please, let Alice be human, with non-stalking tendencies_ , Janet prayed. "No offense, sir, but how well do you know concussions?"

"My wife and I run a kendo dojo. We are acquainted with head blows. He did not lose consciousness, there was no nausea, no fractures..."

Janet listened to the man work his way through the list of warning signs and felt a small, cold knot in her gut loosen. Stitches meant someone with experience had looked over Daniel's skull and concluded the all-important skull bones were intact. "So you kept an eye on him all night?" _Wish I had neighbors like that._

"It was no trouble, that it was not." Kenshin's voice was warm. "Perhaps he may do as much for me someday, should a student land an unfortunate blow."

Janet nodded. "Thank you. Could I talk to Daniel?"

"Of course." Plastic rattled as the phone switched hands once more.

"Janet?"

"Stay home," Janet said firmly. "Tell me the ER, tell me the doctor if you remember the name. I'll call them. Do not come in. I don't care what artifacts are downstairs. Do not drive, do not stay where other people can't check on you, do not dive or swim, do not get on an airplane, helicopter, or any other mode of conveyance that lowers the atmospheric pressure beyond ten thousand feet." Unlikely, but better safe than sorry. "If Thor calls, tell him to put you right back, now." _Very_ unlikely, but again, unlikely was SG-1's lot in life.

"Okay..."

"Did you call Jack?"

"Um."

Janet sighed. "I'll tell him." _And deal with the Mother Hen from Hell._

"Thanks," Daniel said shyly. "I owe you one."

"Like my drill sergeant used to say, you owe me _fifty_." Shaking her head, Janet hung up. _Himura. Where have I heard that before?_ Curious, she tapped a few keys on her computer. _Search for Files or Folders named, containing text..._

A long minute passed.

_Local Area Blood Donors AB Neg G to K_.

Brows climbing into her hair, the redhead opened the file. Gaffson, Gale... Hanson...

Himura, Kenshin.

_How about that. Wonder if we've tapped him for Jack anytime-_ Janet stopped, reread the conventional entry, then turned to the very unconventional note below it. _They only want him to show up every three months? Why - oh. Just over the weight limit, huh._ Small _guy. No wonder Daniel got into the fight._

Well, enough stalling. Time to brave the wrath of O'Neill.

* * *

 

"What'd you find?" O'Neill leaned over Teal'c's shoulder, peering at the computer monitor. Major Carter was just to his left, peering avidly at the video of the demonstration she and Daniel Jackson had missed while sorting out a cultural confusion about the difference between trade-alliance and alliance-against-enemies - which to Lady Daire had meant other _human_ clans first, and the Goa'uld only as a distant second. After all, what fool would fight gods?

The Jaffa frowned. "I am uncertain." He pointed to the lower right corner of the screen, the image of posturing bola-throwers in kilts and claw necklaces currently frozen on its surface. "Watch."

He pressed _play_ , and bola-throwers flexed and threw, carved stone balls wrapping around their four-limbed wood target-

"Hold it." O'Neill's voice was suddenly cold. "Go back. Can you make that corner any bigger?"

"I have, O'Neill. It makes little difference." Teal'c played the tape again, then the enhanced version he had created with the able assistance of the SGC's computer graphics personnel. In both, a distortion moved across the corner of the screen like a cloud of heat-wave; shimmering around bare toes, moving up an instep, then almost _flinching_ at a silvery anklet before it flowed away.

"That's weird," Sam said warily. "Recording artifact?"

"It is possible," Teal'c allowed. "Yet Lieutenant Armstrong seems convinced that if that were true, we should expect anomalies in other areas of the recording."

"And let me guess. You didn't find any." O'Neill frowned at the screen.

"We did not."

"Terrific." A gray-touched brow rose. "Carter?"

The astrophysicist frowned. "I don't know."

But Teal'c could see blue eyes focus on that distortion, the absent nip of teeth at a lower lip.

And from O'Neill's subtle nod, he did as well. "Okay. What don't you know?"

"Remember Daniel said there was something about the mushrooms they didn't want to talk about?"

"Not in mixed company, yeah-"

Major Carter shook her head. "Or maybe, not in public. I was checking Daniel's report, since Janet says he can't come in today... he got the impression they don't send just anyone to gather the stuff. People are specially trained to do it."

"Uh-huh."

The major called up the document on her screen. "In here somewhere... Stories seem to indicate they've been moved through 'Gates at least twice in oral tradition, the last time maybe only four generations ago... drifted a long way from the basic Celtic-Etruscan mix they started out with, symbols aren't like what he expected, okay Daniel, we got it... Oh. Here." She pointed. "From what he observed, the shaman handling the mushrooms carried a lot of protective charms. The kind you only expend the effort of preparing if you're expecting evil supernatural powers."

"Or creatures one could not explain by normal means," Teal'c noted.

Sam straightened. "You think this could be something like P3X-774?"

"If that distortion is its mark on the recording, it is not a fenri," Teal'c said bluntly. "Yet Aindrias may be host to an entity human senses cannot detect."

"A dangerous entity," Sam added softly. Glanced up, eyes wide. "Janet!"

* * *

 

"Just make sure there's someone who can pick up Cassandra if we all have to stay late, all right? Thanks, Naomi." Janet hung up the infirmary phone, turned to the computer where her blood results had just come up. "Hmm. Low histamine levels."

Jack looked over the doctor-ese on the screen. Winced when he realized how much of it he actually understood. _Man, I have been in here way too often._ "No offense, Doc, but I thought you always had low histamine levels."

"There's usually enough chlorpheniramine maleate in my system to make sure I can get through the day without collapsing in sneezing fits from the local equivalent of ragweed," Janet agreed tiredly. "But histamine's a vital part of the immune response. I never take enough medication to lower my levels this much." She gripped the desk, drew a breath.

Teal'c was at her shoulder, ready to help her into a chair as she sat. "Are you well, Dr. Frasier?"

"I'm _tired_ ," Janet said crossly. "I've been tired for two days now. And... well, hallucinations from an untested medication, I can live with. It happens, even here on Earth. Everyone's biochemistry is different. That's why it's always a good idea to start with a low dose of any new drug if possible. Just in case patient A's system can't tolerate what patient B's eats for breakfast." She kneaded her forehead with her knuckles. "I do _not_ like the idea that something may have been messing with my head."

"Was, definitely." Sam tapped the laptop on which she and Teal'c had been reviewing infirmary video recordings of Janet's leopard-like leap onto her desk. "I think we found it, sir."

Distortion, streaming from Janet's nose and mouth as she was restrained. Jack swore under his breath.

"So we've got an unknown entity loose in the Mountain." Janet scowled. "At least we know it's here."

"Loose I could handle, Doc. _Intelligent_ and loose is what we call a bad combination."

"Oh?" Janet frowned at the computerized video of the distortion making its escape. "Oh. Damn."

"We can't assume it's intelligent," Sam pointed out. "That could just be an automatic response to low histamine levels in the host."

"Like a lamprey, moving on when it's not getting enough blood," Janet muttered.

Teal'c raised an inquiring brow. "What is a lamprey, Dr. Fraiser?"

"Parasitic fish."

"More like predatory fish, Doc," Jack corrected. "Long story short, T, it latches onto another fish and rasps open a hole in it. Then it sucks out blood and... well, you get the picture."

"Indeed." The Jaffa looked as if he wanted to edge away from the computer screen.

"Thing is, people call it a parasite because the fish it's eating usually swims off still alive," Jack went on. "And some of them do make it. But most of its prey don't get very far before the shock does 'em in. Or something else does."

"Moved out of camera range," Sam said absently, fast-forwarding through more video. "Wait... I think I got it again." A small shimmer at the edge of the screen, as if translucent smoke eddied in one corner near Janet's desk without ever rising toward the ceiling. Sam speeded through more video, frowning as the distortion huddled in place. "So it doesn't have to stay in a human all the time."

"O'Neill." Teal'c glanced toward the hidden camera in the corner of the ceiling. "While where it has gone is important-"

Jack felt his gut clench. "Where is it _right now?_ "

* * *

 

Whee!

The corpse-smoke giggled as its current host drove out of the tunnel into sunlight. A flick of a hand turned on rhythmic noise. Moving metal around it added an interesting counterpoint, jarring the flesh that held it with a low vibration as this metal mass wove through others, all ebbing downhill. And it was on its way to more food. Food, food, glorious _gobs_ of food.

Anticipation was too great a temptation. It leeched more essence from its host, delighting in the first colorful flashes that meant the other-human was drifting into confusion. Mmm... tasty...

_Panic_ stabbed through its host, sharp as any home-human's fear in the last moment before striking the bottom of the cliff.

And there was screeching and turning and hard sharp flying bits-

Oops.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yamete - Stop.
> 
> Gomen nasai - Forgive me.
> 
> Mou ii - a phrase, means "no more" or "that's enough!"
> 
> Yahari/yappari - literally "as expected"; difficult to translate, its meaning and uses are fuzzily defined. Common translations are "as I thought", "just as I suspected", "you really are (just as I thought)...", "can it be that you're?", etc.
> 
> Ryuu Tsui Sen - Dragon Mallet Flash.
> 
> Sengoku Jidai - the "warring states" era, approx. 1400-1600 AD.
> 
> Sakabatou - fictional reverse-bladed sword.
> 
> Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu - Honorable Sword of the Flowing Heavens. Legendary sword style. (As in, don't try this at home...)
> 
> Kenshi - Swordsman. Not samurai.
> 
> Sou ka - I see; is that so?
> 
> Kenjutsu - sword arts, kendo.
> 
> Edo - renamed Tokyo after the Meiji Restoration.


	3. Chapter 3

_Why me?_ Was the first thought that ran through Ryan's head after brakes finally dragged the detective's small car to a halt. Family reflexes were fast enough to dodge most idiots on the road, but whoever this joker from Cheyenne was, he'd cut across three lanes of traffic with _no_ warning. Chi senses that should have picked up hostility or drugs or plain mental flip-out hadn't sensed anything but an odd, confused blur-

_Mel!_

"Ugh... call in the plate number..."

"Keep your eyes closed." Ryan undid his seat belt, leaned over to brush bits of safety glass out of Detective Melle Cameron's short mahogany hair. His nostrils flared; caught scents of spilled oil, burnt rubber, blood. But not from inside this car. "You okay?"

"Bleh." Sea-blue eyes blinked at him, narrowed in wry amusement. "That'll teach me to help you check out hunches on Air Force guys looking up your uncle."

Ryan glanced toward the crunched mid-size with the Air Force stickers. "He's bleeding. Could be bad."

Mel frowned, peering at what was visible of the other driver. "How the hell do you... never mind. Go." She picked up the radio. "Dispatch, 11-80..."

_Damn, I miss Joss sometimes_ , Ryan thought, heading for the other vehicle with gun in hand. Detective Joseph White wasn't the keenest blade in the drawer - that's why he was still Narcotics, while Ryan had gotten snatched into Homicide - but he'd at least taken his partner's ability to pick information out of thin air at face value.

Mel was different. Mel _watched_ him. Closely enough that she'd started to see a pattern to his monthly absences, even if she had no clue what caused them.

_One night of the moon, a hanyou's power drains away_....

And Mel didn't think the streetlight incident was just a martial arts trick.

_Maybe Uncle Kenshin's right, I should tell her something... yeah, right. Where the hell would I start? "Mel? I'd like you to meet my grandpa, the wolf-hanyou."_

Oh gods, that wasn't even funny. Saitou Hajime could be downright vicious when looking over potential new pack-mates.

_Pack-mates? Where the hell did that come from? She's my partner... right, you work with her, and blood-smell stirs up the protective instincts. Mind on the job, cub._ "Sir?" Ryan approached with caution; that trickle of blood through close-cropped blond hair was a scalp wound, probably made by flying glass, but who knew how hard the head behind it had been hit? Way too many of the service personnel in the Cheyenne area had combat reflexes. "Sir, I'm Detective O'Connell. Are you all right?"

The Air Force sergeant giggled.

_Not good._ Ryan held his ground, frowning. Something was off. Something just didn't feel right....

White smoke spilled from the sergeant's nose and mouth.

_Holy-!_ Ryan leapt backwards, not caring who saw, just trying to put distance between himself and whatever the hell _that_ was.

Not fast enough. A creamy tendril grabbed his left arm, snaked up his shoulder-

_Let_ go! Snarling, Ryan summoned up his own youki, _shoving_ at the interloper.

White smoke screeched and pulled back, shaking. Hissed at him.

"Ryan?"

White smoke coiled. Moved side to side, as if considering how to go past him. His arm itched and burned, sure sign of foreign energies trying to take hold of his own. _Eat, possess, hitch a ride - any way you slice it, this thing is bad news._ "Mel, get back!"

"Why?" Leather shoes tapped across asphalt behind him. "What's wrong?"

"Just get back!" _Damn! She can't see it_. Ryan holstered his gun, flipping out one of the thin, silvery knives 'Jiisan had sworn even an honest cop would need someday. Slashed white smoke.

Metal sizzled away.

"Che!"

"Ryan?" Mel's voice sounded shaky.

"Yeah?" He flipped out another knife, watching creamy energy writhe back. _Intangible; a Hornet's Flight is out, unless I want to fry all my knives in one go. So two more after this... did I hurt it at all?_

"Your knife just melted."

"Yeah." _Think, think!_ "Mel! Leather package in the back. Get it!"

Metal thumped. "O'Connell! Why the hell do you have a _sword_ in your trunk?"

"Later!" _Hope there is a later..._

But creamy smoke snaked back and away, flinching from the glint of silvered steel. Curled on itself, and dove into the traffic still tearing past.

"K'so!"

_Compact sedan, dark blue, Colorado plates WX9-G67_. Ryan noted the details with a sinking feeling; by the time he could get the vehicle's description onto a B.O.L.O., that thing could have jumped bodies a dozen times.

_Heck, even if we found it, it could take the cops!_

Only one thing to do, then.

Taking out his cell, Ryan hit speed-dial. "Uncle Kenshin? We've got a big, _big_ problem..."

A safety clicked off. "Sir?" The tone was polite, but the MP's eyes were hard. "Please turn the phone off."

A quick intake of breath drew Ryan's gaze back to his battered car, where two uniforms had just gotten a good grip on his partner. Mel's hands were on his katana's hilt, sea-blue eyes were all but spitting fire, and coral-tinged lips were curled in a snarl to match 'Kaa-san Mika Saitou O'Connell's best.

_How_ dare _they put their hands on her..._

Creaking plastic brought the detective back to reality. He couldn't afford to crush the phone. Not now. _Hope Kenshin's ears are as good as mine._ "Gaki," Ryan said under his breath. "Heading into town. _From the Mountain_."

* * *

"Ryan?" Kenshin gripped the phone, listening hard.

Walking into the dojo with the second-to-last bag of groceries, Daniel watched the swordsman's knuckles pale, and wondered if maybe he'd have been better off sticking to his apartment after all. Granted, he hadn't wanted to stay inside all day, and once Kaoru knew he had a mostly-bare fridge and a card for the library near the dojo, she'd all but hit him over the head and dragged him along with them...

Still, watching a lethal redhead count down to ignition was _not_ on Daniel's list of things to do with an unexpected day off.

Quiet as a breeze, Kenshin set the phone down.

Daniel fought the urge to close his eyes and duck into cover. _Three, two, one-_

"Aoshi's fears have come to pass."

_Um - fizzle?_ Daniel took a second look at Himura's still face, the pale hand not quite touching his sword-hilt. _Uh... no. Slow boil._ Very _slow boil._

Kaoru breezed back inside, tote bag in hand, _shinai_ over her shoulder, and list tucked into a pocket. "Okay! Garden looks good, the herbs are drying, if we can just get that order in for a few more bokkens... Kenshin?"

"I fear our call to the woodwright must wait." Kenshin studied Daniel. "Before our young cousin was taken into custody, one suspects by your O'Neill's military police, he mentioned a gaki."

Kaoru gasped. "They took Ryan?"

"A hungry ghost?" Daniel hazarded. "Japanese mythology isn't my area of expertise." _I should have looked it up, though; we've met a Chinese Goa'uld, there's probably some Japanese ones as well. Why can't the Tok'ra give us a list?_

Kenshin's gaze didn't flicker. "But what comes from the Mountain is."

Daniel shook his head. "I can't talk about that." _And you can stare until Doomsday; I've faced down System Lords, I'm not going to break my word now-_

Kaoru thumped him on the arm, a few careful inches away from the bruise. "Cut it out! Both of you!"

"Ow!"

"Oro?"

"You," Kaoru glared at Kenshin, "Get the map. Let's see if whatever it is shows up."

A whisper of cloth, and Kenshin was gone. "Scarier than Jin-e," floated back on the breeze.

"I heard that!" The same azure glare turned on Daniel. "Now, _you_ are going to help me get my supplies together. And think about what you _can_ tell us."

* * *

 

_And the day just keeps getting better_ , Jack thought wryly, tapping his fingers on the SGC interrogation room table, staring down the lean, dark-haired man across from him. Six foot even, loose-sleeved plainclothes suit and tie, collar-length black hair with a half-dozen chin-length bangs in the front, hard features that melded Japan and Europe - he'd never have guessed the man's name if he hadn't seen it plastered all over the guy's ID. "Detective O'Connell."

"Colonel O'Neill." Hazel eyes stared back, fearless as a wolf's. "Taking some time off from deep-space radar?"

_I'm going to hurt whoever came up with that cover story. Oh yeah._ Jack gestured to the three and a half slender knives spread on the table between them. The neat leather armlet they'd been sheathed in was currently in Teal'c's very interested hands, in another room. _Set up for quick release and throw. Nifty little assassin's trick. Made for a lefty, no less._ "Want to tell me how this happened?"

"Ryan Saitou O'Connell. Detective, Carson Springs PD, Homicide. I want a lawyer. A _civilian_ lawyer." The detective crossed his arms, not so casually putting a hand over the right elbow Janet had tapped for her blood sample. "And I'm not saying anything else 'til I get one."

_Uh-huh._ Easy to say. Hard to do. "Most cops I know wouldn't carry these," Jack said thoughtfully, waving a hand over slim steel. "Kind of gives the wrong impression." He raised a brow. "Saved your neck today, though."

Silence.

"Speaking of impressions... kind of funny, you carrying a katana in your trunk. Right next to the shotgun. Either way, you're not the kind of guy to keep something you can't use." Jack shrugged. "I just can't believe a guy like you would watch another swordsman cut down a streetlight and _not_ try to figure out how he did it."

More silence. Ryan didn't even twitch.

"Your partner's talking, you know. Well... _was_ talking," Colonel O'Neill gave him a worried, sympathetic frown. "Our doc's with her now. Anything you could tell us that would help?"

Lean nostrils flared. Hazel eyes looked through him, ice over fury.

_Tough kid_ , Jack reflected. _But you've got a soft spot for Cameron a mile wide. Not just partners, huh?_

He could use that. If he had enough time. If any of them had enough time.

Someone rapped on the door. "'Scuse me." Jack scooped up the knives, keeping an ear out as he turned his back on the younger man. The chairs in here made a vicious scrape over the floor; no matter how many ninja tricks the detective knew, he ought to hear the kid coming.

But Ryan didn't move as Jack left the room. Just sat, and waited, and seethed in furious silence.

_Tough. We've got an alien predator out there, and you want to play "I'm a civilian"?_ Jack frowned at his team, looked down at Janet. "What?"

"Blood type O-positive, immune response within acceptable limits, histamine levels normal," the doctor reported. "He's clean. So is Detective Cameron."

"But before she clammed up, she said it looked like there was a heat-wave around him," Jack pointed out. "And we checked everybody else at the scene. Why the heck would it bug out with all those fresh targets around?"

"Maybe it didn't like O'Connell's knife." Sam pointed at her laptop monitor. "Don't ask me how the smith did it, but there's traces of silver in this alloy."

"The _draoch_ , whom Daniel called shaman, was wearing silver charms," Teal'c pointed out. "As was the bola-thrower."

Jack raised a skeptical brow. "T. Do _not_ tell me this thing's related to the Wolfman."

"What is a Wolfman?"

"A myth," Jack said absently. Where was Daniel when you needed him? Right, concussed and at home. Meaning their monster hadn't latched onto him. Good. "Usually made into cheesy horror movies where the good guy - or gal, sometimes - ends up taking a silver bullet to the heart." He pointed at Sam. "Don't even think about Lone Ranger jokes."

"Sir, we have reason to believe this is an energy-based life-form," Sam said practically. "And silver is a conductor."

Swell. "Just so you know? I'm not hauling out Grandma O'Neill's cutlery so we can go monster-hunting."

"It would limit our range to hand-to-hand," Teal'c said thoughtfully. "I would advise water pistols loaded with silver nitrate."

"I keep plenty in the infirmary for a last-ditch antiseptic," Janet nodded. "Sometimes I have no idea what kind of infectious organisms a team's brought back. Hard to beat the basics."

Lunatics. He was running a team full of lunatics. _At least they're my lunatics_. "So we have a plan to stop this thing."

"If we can locate it," Teal'c agreed.

"It might be easier to let it find us." Sam shrugged under the sudden weight of three stares. "Well, on Aindrias, it's associated with the _pader-paebi_ , so..."

"Bait," Jack said tersely. "Good idea."

"We still have to get close enough for it to know we're there," Sam fretted. "By the time we can follow up on a report of weird behavior it'll be long gone."

"And we can't just lock down the whole city and take blood samples," Janet frowned.

"We could," Jack said bluntly. "And we will, if we have to." The general already had a plan to do just that, if worst came to worst.

"Colonel." Janet's scowl deepened. "Those people aren't in the military. They have rights. Do you know how many laws we'd be breaking-"

"Major Fraiser. If we weren't pretty damn sure this thing is an isolated creature, and not some kind of spreading infection, we'd have done it already." Colonel O'Neill glanced at his second in command. "Carter. Who'd O'Connell call before we snatched him?"

* * *

 

"Kamiya dojo. Instructor Himura speaking." Kenshin watched Daniel help Kaoru prepare her inks and papers, senses alert in case the creature they sought came seeking them too soon. His own preparations had been swift and simple; plain gi and hakama changed for ones of patterned silk, a glass-beaded blue ribbon to catch back red hair in a high ponytail, calm breaths to draw his mind into the stillness needed for the fight...

And Battousai whispering close to the surface.

_My territory. My people. My kin._

_This creature will not escape me._

"Now, why am I not surprised?" Colonel O'Neill's voice drawled.

_Nor I._ "It would be wise if you released Ryan. And his partner."

"What makes you think we have him?"

"Do not," Battousai said evenly, "Play the fool with me, O'Neill."

"Likewise." The Air Force officer's voice held a level chill the _rurouni_ recognized all too well... and the _hitokiri_ knew in his bones.

_The ice-cold blood of war._ Battousai took firmer control, gently setting the _rurouni_ aside. _This one has lost part of himself, as Aoshi did so long ago. Reason will not sway him. Only deeds_.

"So. Now that we're not playing, here." A thump; possibly a boot from desk to floor. "O'Connell's not talking. What do you know?"

"You hunt a _gaki_ ," Battousai said plainly. Daniel stiffened; the swordsman held up a hand, motioned him back to Kaoru's preparations. "And it hunts the people of this city."

"A what?"

"A _gaki_ ," Battousai repeated, drawing on some of Himura's patience. _Ryuu Mei San_ might not work over all phone lines... and stunning the man would not obtain Ryan's release any more quickly. "Or something like unto one. A hungry ghost, a cloud of smoke that feeds on human energies. It is swift, most humans cannot easily see it, and silver hurts it, but will not slay."

O'Neill was silent a moment. "So what will?"

_I will._ "I would advise you to find a _houshi_ ," Battousai said evenly. "A warrior monk, who has the skills and chants to cast the _gaki_ out of an unwilling host."

Another beat of silence. "You're saying we need an _exorcist?_ "

"Yes."

"Now, come on...."

"And soon," Battousai cut across his words. "Before it nests in a human host, and spawns."

O'Neill paused. "You think it can do that."

"If it chooses to nest rather than simply feed, its host will be weak, listless. Perhaps delirious. Fires will start about it, without explanation. There will be fever, convulsions, and shortly after that, death. And more gaki. Perhaps three or four. And the cycle will begin again."

A longer pause. "How much time do we have?"

"There is no way to know." The _rurouni_ took hold for a moment. "These are the numbers I know of...."

Hanging up on yet another protest, Kenshin took a calming breath.

"He's not going to be fooled for long," Daniel pointed out. "He walked in here. He saw you. Even if he didn't see everything, Jack knows you're not going to just say it's not your problem and walk away-" The archaeologist drew in a sharp breath. "Your eyes."

_I know._ "It is part of my nature," Kenshin said levelly. He'd called it, after all. Felt youki rise to the surface, bleeding red hair to scarlet, turning violet eyes amber as flame.

_Hitokiri Battousai_.

The demon who brought the bloody rain. The assassin who killed like an ogre and vanished, elusive as wind.

The heritage he had finally accepted so many years ago, for Kaoru's sake and his own.

_Karyuu-hanyou._

Daniel faced it and did not quail, though sweat glimmered against golden hair. "He's trying to do the right thing."

"You trust him." Kenshin held his gaze, level as a blade. "Even to stand aside from a danger he cannot see, and cannot fight."

Daniel swallowed. "I hope so."

Kaoru touched the back of his hand. "He must be a very good friend."

"One of the best." Daniel shook his head. "We just can't seem to reach each other. I don't know why."

"War," Kenshin stated. "It freezes the heart of the strongest souls."

"But we can't stop fighting." Despair ached in Daniel's voice. "There isn't anyone else. We _have_ to do this."

Kenshin smiled sadly. "So I, too, said once."

Blue blinked behind glass, dragged out of misery by the seeming contradiction. "Japan hasn't been in a war since _1945._ "

_Not as you might think of one; though some of our folk have meddled in Asia, as have yours._ Kenshin chuckled at the note of accusation. "And I was not in that one, that I was not." Save peripherally, in frantic efforts to haul kin and friends out of the madness that had swept Europe and his homeland. For once his red hair had been Kaoru's protection; no Allied soldier saw that and believed him one of the loathed Japanese.

Although being called a "carrot-topped Injun" _had_ been a shock.

One last preparation to make. One last measure, against a creature that would laugh at any thoughts of surrender to human hands.

Kneeling beside a black lacquered chest, Kenshin untied his sakabatou's sheath. Laid it aside.

Opened the lid, and took out his paired swords.

* * *

 

"Just so you know?" Mel pointed out to her grim-faced partner as they walked through fading daylight, past Herbert's Garage, Clips and Snips Hairstylists, and other struggling middle-class shops that formed a major part of their beat. "We're being followed."

"I know."

_Probably before I did_ , Mel thought wryly. _How do you_ do _that?_ "O'Neill?"

"Three others. One of them's...." Ryan drew in a breath, almost as if he were tasting the air. "Not human," he finished in a whisper.

Mel glanced at him askance. "You're starting to freak me out here."

"Go home, Mel."

"Oh, right. Leave you out here with Colonel Klink and his buddies, one of whom _you_ say isn't human, so you can go meet up with your weird uncle and chase down something _else_ that's not human and eats people." Mel snorted. "Not a chance."

"I didn't say I was going to."

Mel gave him a Look. "You didn't head in to press charges on O'Neill. You've got that _look_ , that the-universe-is-screwy-and-what-else-is-new look, that you _only_ get around Kenshin. Or on the phone with your grandparents. And you're carrying that sword. Which you still haven't explained, by the way."

"Family heirloom?" he tried.

"That you keep in your trunk. Weak, Ryan. Real weak."

"Point," he admitted.

"I am," Mel said archly, "A detective."

"And you detect...?"

"I saw you slice a heat-wave. I saw it melt the knife." She stopped dead in the center of the sidewalk, temper rising despite her best efforts to squash it. "I don't know what to think, but I do _not_ like being kept in the dark, _partner._ "

His wolfish face bent in an unaccustomed grin. "You are so beautiful when you're angry."

_Say_ what?

Quick as thought, Ryan had an arm around her, leaning close enough to nuzzle her neck. "Don't hit me yet," he breathed by her ear. "They're watching."

"This better be good," she hissed through a smile.

He pressed a kiss against the collar of her shirt, angling his body so an observer would think skin had touched skin. "We're decoys."

"Uh?" Ryan's arms were strong, and warm - and ready to lift off in an instant if she flinched. So she wouldn't flinch. If her partner needed an act for their would-be jailers, he'd get one.

Besides, this was kind of nice. Ryan had been a gentleman ever since he'd been paired up with her; quite a change from the usual Homicide newbie trying to outdo one of the few women in the field. She'd even considered asking him out once or twice on one of his free days... which was when she'd finally realized Ryan had a _pattern_ of hiding in his apartment one night a month.

_One of these days, I'm going to get that out of him, too._ "Talk, O'Connell."

"O'Neill let us go."

"Right." Hard to concentrate with his breath feathering her ear. _Think, Mel. Grabbed us, questioned us, dropped us off, following us...._ "Phone. GPS."

"I heard O'Neill call Uncle." Left-handed, Ryan stroked her hair. "I asked around the other day. I'm not the only guy in the department O'Neill called. And if he's smart, and he is smart, he figured out some of what Kenshin _didn't_ tell him."

Which was that for the past year or so, when the department had reports of the freaky, Kenshin usually ended up there to handle it. "So if they're trying to find this gaki, why not follow him?"

Ryan snickered; it tickled the fine hairs at the nape of her neck. "You ever tried following Kenshin?"

"No...."

"Like tracking a hawk on a cloudy day." Ryan buried his nose in mahogany strands. "Trust me. Just doesn't work." He breathed in with a blissful sigh. _"Kirei na kaori...."_

"That better have been a compliment, partner."

Ryan didn't speak, just made a sort of rumbling growl, and nuzzled in deeper.

Okay, this was little too close to not acting. "Ryan?" Mel tapped his chest. "Ryan... O'Connell! Snap out of it!"

Wide-eyed, he jerked back. _"Anou?"_ Looked at her face, red tingeing his cheekbones. "Oh god. Um, I can explain. Sort of. Later."

Watching her usually cool, calm, and collected partner go from pale to tomato in under sixty seconds, Mel shook her head. "You'd better."

* * *

 

"Wow."

"Let me guess." Kaoru let the jade dragon pendant dangle over their white-and-gray city map, feeling the tug of distortion following red-inked dragon lines. "You've never seen anything like it."

"Um, actually, I think..." Daniel gripped the edge of the folding table as he traced the pattern around Cheyenne Mountain. Frowned. "Not _this_ map. But something like it. Tiamat. The mother of dragons. 'She walked among men by day, but at night she would retreat to the Great Sea to sleep, and the paths of her feet would linger quiet until the dawn, a blessing on those who followed her.' Fault lines? The whole area around Babylon's always been at risk of earthquakes. If Tiamat - or Omoroca - really _could_ quiet the quakes, that'd be enough to get people following her...." The archaeologist blinked, suddenly aware of where he was. "Ah - could you forget I said that?"

Northward tug, with just a quiver of something off about it. "You're sure it's not important?" Kaoru asked.

"Pretty sure." Daniel gave her a shy smile. "It was something else. Someone else, really, but... there wasn't anything like your gaki involved."

"If, in truth, it is a gaki." Silk rustled as Kenshin tied a red ribbon around her stack of _ofuda_. A plain bandage wrapped the side of his left forefinger, where her dagger had drawn the blood that dotted the tip of each talisman. "Its course has not changed?"

"It's wavered a little. But it's still following this line." Kaoru touched the map, feeling that echo of sticky energies, as if a slug had crawled over bright paper. Odd, to think that her grandfather's talent for ink painting had led her to a view of their enemies Kenshin could not see. And yet not so odd, from what they'd learned about magic ever since that frantic chase to save Tokyo's Circle of Eternity a second time. From the moment Hiko Seijuro had taken him in, Kenshin's training had led him down the path of the lone warrior, the swordsman who struck at the enemy where and when he would. Like an assassin. Like a dragon.

Maps were a human concern.

"And it staying on track is not a good thing?" Daniel asked warily.

"A true gaki is near as intelligent as a human, when it is not driven by hunger." Amber eyes studied the map. "If it has encountered Ryan, it knows it will be hunted. A true gaki would have left the lines, here. Or here. Or perhaps turned off along this thinner thread of power, to break its trail. It has not."

"So if it's not a gaki, will those still work?" Daniel nodded toward the talismans. "How do those work?"

"They're kind of like mirrors," Kaoru said hesitantly. For all the study she'd done over the years since Tokyo, she was a swordswoman, not a _miko_. She could mix the ink, paint it with the proper strokes, mind as calm and prepared as it would be in the midst of a sword form. With Kenshin's help, she could even power it. Explaining it was something else. "They take in energy that shouldn't be there, and reflect it back, so it can't get through."

"In answer, yes." Kenshin stepped back from the table. "So long as this creature infests a human chi, our measures will work, gaki or no."

Daniel rubbed the side of his head. "But if it's not a gaki, maybe it's not going to spawn...."

"Yes, it is." Kaoru shivered. "It's going from person to person. It doesn't need to do that just to get enough chi to live. The distortion in the lines keeps getting worse. It's storing energy."

_Rrring_ -

Kenshin seized the phone before the ring finished. "Himura." Frowned. "Sanji. Slow down."

"Sanji?" Kaoru laid her pendant down.

"Friend of yours?" Daniel asked.

"No, not really," she admitted. "Officer John Sanji. He's Sergeant Williams' new trainee. You missed him last night, he was busy hauling off idiots... his parents came over from India, and he's got an awful accent when he's upset." Which he had to be right now, given the way amber had narrowed into deadly slits.

"Did he harm you?" Kenshin said abruptly. "No. No, Sanji. Taking him by force would have meant two options; either it seized you as well, or it eluded you and did your partner great harm. Which way did it take him?"

* * *

 

Black wool cap pulled over his golden brand, Teal'c frowned as Cameron stepped out of O'Connell's arms and headed down the street. "I believe they have 'made' us, O'Neill."

"Darn," Sam sighed. "And here I thought someone was having better luck than I am."

Stuffed into the back seat of Jack's F250 across from Sam, Janet considered her options. _Bad, worse, worst_ , the doctor thought dryly. _I should have known it wasn't just a drug reaction, I should have checked._

Well, she didn't, and she hadn't. And now the city, and possibly the planet, had to deal with the consequences.

_But there's got to be a better way than this. There just has to be_.

"Heck with it." Jack pulled in to the curb and got out. "Come on, kids. Might as well just ask the guy."

"Go on," Janet waved Sam off as her phone vibrated. "I might have to take this."

The astrophysicist nodded and slipped out behind her teammates, closing the dark green door with a gentle thump.

_Quiet. At last._ Not that SG-1 had been talkative while stalking the detectives, but the brooding tension might as well have been a circular saw running full blast. "Hello?"

"Janet?"

"Daniel!" The world felt better already. "How are you?"

"Okay, my head feels a lot better, and - wait. I was calling about you. Are you all right? I tried the Mountain first, they said you left with Jack...."

"Tired," Janet admitted to that honest concern. "Cranky. Did the colonel tell you we had a problem?"

"Sort of."

_Sort of?_ Janet eyed the phone suspiciously.

"But you're okay?" Daniel went on. "No delirium, no fever, no weird fires...."

"None of the above." And why did that sound familiar?

"Good. That's good, I was worried." Daniel blew out a breath. "Is Jack in a listening mood?"

"Not as much as I'd like," Janet admitted, watching Jack gesticulate and O'Connell cross stubborn arms. Was it her imagination, or was the tall detective looking very carefully at Teal'c? "He's trying to track down-"

And her mind put together _Daniel, trouble magnet, list of symptoms,_ and _Kenshin Himura_. "Oh no."

"Um... yeah."

_This is just not my day._ "Where are you?"

"Did Jack find a houshi?"

Janet rolled her eyes. "Daniel. Are you asking me if Colonel O'Neill, USAF, went looking for an _exorcist_ to handle one of our problems?"

"Damn. Probably too late to bring one in anyway, but I was hoping...." A sigh. "So what was his plan?"

"Silver nitrate and some fungus to bait it. We hope. What do you mean, too late?" Janet felt a chill jitterbug its way down her spine.

"I'll call you back."

"Daniel! Don't you-"

_Click_.

_He'll call you back. He promised._ And Daniel wouldn't lie to her. Not deliberately.

Shoving Teal'c's seat forward, Janet stuck her head out the window. "Colonel!"

In the middle of a gesture that evoked attempted friendliness and imminent neck-wringing in one efficient move, Jack stopped. Craned his head her way. "Doc?"

"Daniel just called," Janet said bluntly. "He's with Himura."

"Say _what?_ "

* * *

 

"It's a bad idea!" Kaoru huffed, laying out _ofuda_ in a wide, subtle circle.

"Perhaps." Kenshin paced grass and weeds like a ghost, studying the lay of the ground, the way one particular alley led into this fenced lot.

"No _maybe_ about it," Kaoru said bluntly. "He didn't even look? He didn't even listen, when you told him it was a gaki?" She shook back dark hair, blue eyes all but snapping sparks. "Why should we let him anywhere near here?"

"He needs to see it," Daniel insisted. It felt like Kenshin was listening, and yet....

_Those eyes_.

Molten amber, waiting to drown the unwary in flames.

_Been there, done that_ , a wry part of his mind spoke up. _Jack's counting on you. Everybody is._

"The Mountain's Jack's responsibility," Daniel said plainly. "He needs to know we caught it. That it's over. Or he won't have any choice but to turn the city upside-down."

Amber weighed him. "You trust him."

_With my soul._ "Yes."

Scarlet inclined; one subtle nod. "Then the choice is yours."

* * *

 

"For the last time, Colonel, we have no clue where Himura is," Detective Cameron insisted, obviously fighting the urge to drum her fingers on the green pickup's hood. "He's a private citizen, he's more than a little odd, which I'm _sure_ you've noticed - heck, he could be halfway across the country by now."

Phone clenched in her hand, Janet resisted the urge to applaud. _Nice performance. But Himura's not nearly as eccentric as you're trying to make us think he is, is he? And you're worried._

"Assume he's not, and work backwards," Jack said sourly. "He thinks he's chasing a ghost. He's got one of _my people_ with him-"

"He knew silver would hurt it," Sam said thoughtfully. "How?" The astrophysicist studied O'Connell like an unexpected pulsar in the middle of an otherwise sane planetary system. "How did you know?"

The detective let out a slow breath. Shrugged. "My family has a history of dealing with things. Like gaki."

Silence.

"You're a cop," Jack pointed out.

Hazel narrowed, wolf-bright. "You know, Colonel, _youkai_ and _oni_ don't look at your job description before they try to _eat you_." O'Connell turned an apologetic glance on his stunned partner. "I was trying to think of a good way to tell you...."

_Ring_.

Janet opened her phone with a sigh of relief. "Fraiser."

"Promise me you won't let Jack jump into the middle of this."

"Daniel-"

"Daniel?" Jack grabbed for the phone. Janet dodged, giving him her best pulling-medical-rank glare.

"Janet, please," Daniel went on, oblivious to the battle of wills. "We think it's following the dragon lines, the... energy paths in the city. And if it is, we know where it's going. I hope."

Janet's hand clenched on black plastic, all too aware of SG-1's eyes boring into her. Teal'c wasn't about to help Jack corner her, but the set of his impassive face told her he was not on her side. Not when it came to an unknown dragging Daniel into his plans. "Keep talking."

"Himura has a plan, but it's risky. Promise me you'll grab Jack before he runs over one of Kaoru's _ofuda_."

Janet blinked. "O-what?"

"Paper talismans. Sort of like what hit MacKenzie, only aimed at things, not people. Janet, promise me."

_Might as well ask me to hold back a tornado._ "If you're in the line of fire-"

"I'm not! I promise."

"Hang on." Janet took the phone away from her face. "Daniel says Himura has a plan."

* * *

 

Mmm, smack, yum....

The corpse-smoke nudged at its current host, almost full. This way... yes, this way had a good _feel_ to it. There were energies under the ground. Forces too weak for it to feed on, but perfect for lifting its spawn on their way to nest in brood-fungus.

Just a little farther. Then it would spawn, burning its hapless host in one burst of agony that would breathe its young into life.

One odd fact nagged at the corpse-smoke. In all its wanderings through this other-human nest, it hadn't sensed a trace of brood fungus. Which meant its spawn might have to blow far in the wind to find rest and feeding after they hatched from the seared husk of this host.

But that wasn't its problem.

* * *

 

_Colors - sounds - too bright_ -

Sergeant Williams staggered down the street, not sure where he was, or why. He'd pulled a cherry-red Escort over, watched a weaving woman lurch to the side of the road, and then-

_My radio. Where's_ -

Clarity vanished in a swirl of fever. He had to walk this way. Had to find someplace to hide.

_Someplace to burn...._

_God, somebody help me!_

* * *

Almost there. It stalked through a ragged field - _vacant lot_ , the host's mind whispered - toward a battered human-nest. On its host's right was a discarded pile of paper and brown, bark-like sheets, leaning up against the nest wall. One strip stood out against the rest, birch-pale, marked with angular black slashes and one red dot that felt of blood.

Perfect. No one would suspect a fire here.

It nudged its host again, and reached-

White light flashed up.

* * *

 

"What the heck?" Jack bunched his fingers in the chain link fence separating his team from the run-down construction shack. _Damn Himura, gave us these directions on purpose_. Not that a fence would keep him out. "Why'd it stop?"

"That light," Daniel whispered.

"What light?" He'd seen the hapless uniformed officer reel back, but from what?

"You see it?" Still standing like a Swiss Guard between his blinking partner and Teal'c, Ryan looked Daniel over more carefully. "Huh."

Something Daniel and Ryan could see, but the rest of his team couldn't. Jack did not like this. At all. "Fine, whatever, let's _go-_ "

Metal sang across metal; the bone-chilling slide of a sword from its sheath. "You cannot pass, _gaki_."

Jack stopped, one foot still lodged in chain link. _That, is no practice blade._

Red and white silk whispered out of the twilight, flowing around a small frame. Himura stood like a willow against the first breath of storm, patient and waiting. Slim arms held a katana, angled in front of his chest; the right just below the guard, the left gripping under it. Two sheaths were tied to his belt, one still holding a wakazashi. Red hair glowed scarlet as blood in the first dark of night, caught up in a high ponytail that seemed both ancient and oddly formal.

And his eyes were deadly, molten gold.

"I know you hear me, nestled within your unwilling host. I know you understand." All the courtesy had dropped from Kenshin's voice, though it was still light and soft as a wind through tall grass. "You cannot pass."

* * *

 

Ow! Ow ow ow ow ow!

Try left. Try around-

Ow!

More strips of paper, gleaming with the same painful light as the first. Filled with hurt, like home-humans' mean, nasty chants-

A trap. A _trap!_

* * *

Kenshin watched Sergeant Williams' face twist as his body crashed against the shimmering walls of Kaoru's ofuda. The gaki was in control; he could see it in the loose, faltering steps, the sickening dark pulse in the man's chi.

In control, and prepared to spawn.

_You will not suffer that death, Williams. I swear it._

Hissing, the gaki turned toward him. Narrowed stolen eyes.

"Stolen flesh and soul can never pass those wards," Kenshin said levelly. His ears caught Kaoru's quick steps behind him, laying the last of her talismans to seal the circle about his enemy. "Your host may pass, or you may. Not both."

A cruel smile twisted Williams' lips. Arms spread, threatening.

"It takes many minutes for a man to burn alive. Many minutes, and a great deal of agony. That is what you feed on. What your spawn must have, to be cast upon the winds and grow." Kenshin set the peace in his soul aside, let memories of blood rise up and take him as he slipped his sheath from his belt. " _You_... will not kill him."

Arms hesitated. The shuffling step faltered.

The _hitokiri_ sheathed his blade. "Come." Stepped back and left, knees bent; sheath gripped under his left arm, right hand by the hilt and waiting. "Learn the meaning of the name, _Battousai_."

* * *

"Ohmigod." Janet grabbed the fence, started to climb.

Jack grabbed her by the scruff of her white coat, hauled her down. "No."

"But he's going to-"

"Damn straight. _No._ " Jack glanced at Teal'c, noted with approval that the Jaffa had already seized Sam's shoulder. _Which leaves one more idealistic idiot to grab-_

But Daniel wasn't moving. Only standing there, fingers laced into the fence, watching Kaoru stand fast outside her circle of inked papers. The kendo instructor had an origami box in her left hand, an ink brush in her right... and tears trickling down her cheeks.

"Why the hell not?" Cameron's fingers were itching to grab her gun.

"If we go in there, we'll breach the wards," Ryan bit out. "It'll get away. It'll have time to spawn." The detective swallowed dryly. "If Kenshin kills it first, it can't."

Mel blanched. "We can't-"

"Williams is dead already!" O'Connell's face was hard; hazel eyes were suspiciously wet. "Damn it, Mel, my family's met gaki before! If it's not out of him in the next few minutes, it will _burn him to death_. So it can _breed_ , and fly, and kill more people. Is that what you want?" He kept his gaze on the blaze of scarlet hair. "That's _battoujutsu_ stance. It'll be quick."

Jack watched the standoff like a hawk, wishing for an instant he had Daniel's eyes. There was _something_ going on here he couldn't see, some clash of will or power that went beyond pure swordsman's bluff. "Daniel?"

"It - feels sick around him," the archaeologist said hesitantly, glancing at the cop. "Dark, and thick. Like swamp water."

_Not what I meant_. But-

_Mary, mother of - no one's that fast!_

It wasn't even a blur; just a heart-stopping sense of _movement_ -

A subtle deflation of the cop's form, as heat shimmered away-

And the blade _turned_ , flashing silver as it touched cloth-

"Now!"

Kaoru leapt into the circle, swooping her box through the center of the heat-shimmer. Firework-red sparks flashed across distorted air, turning it to a white, twisting cloud that stretched and strained-

And folded on itself, yanked into the box as Kaoru closed an ink-scribed lid on top of it. "Got you!"

* * *

 

"I apologize for the blade, Williams-san." Kenshin stood near the edge of the talisman circle, six feet from where his turned blow had slammed the cop through the shimmering force of inked paper. "Your captor had to believe the threat was real."

Coughing, Williams reached up just enough to touch dark cloth, revealing the upward slash across his chest that had left Kevlar untouched. "H-how..."

"One who has mastered everything of _battoujutsu_ ," Kenshin said softly, sheathing his blade. "That is the meaning of the name, _Battousai_." Walking over to the fallen man, he knelt. Behind him bodies were climbing and swearing their way over chain link; Kenshin trusted they would see the danger was over. He took one of Williams' wrists to check pulse and chi, then the other. "Stay still."

Williams shivered. "H-himura...?"

"Yes." Kenshin smiled, letting the hitokiri's fury settle back into the rurouni's calm. "You worried me, Sergeant."

" _He_ worried _you?_ " Dr. Fraiser went to one knee in a rustle of white cotton. "Stay with us, Sergeant, you're in shock. Not to mention your histamine levels are probably through the floor... just hang on, I'm going to get you help."

"St. Gwinifred's would be best," Kenshin informed her as she started to dial. "There are those on staff who will recognize such injuries."

"Air Force hospital would be better."

O'Neill. Such sharp, brittle edges to the man's chi. Hard to sense past them to the rough warmth Daniel trusted. "Not," Kenshin said evenly, "For Williams. Nor for the others the gaki fed on, who are even now scattered across this city, attempting to piece together what fragments of their selves they have lost." He rose, locking violet on hard brown. "This secret no longer dwells in your shadows, Colonel."

_You have lost_.

Kenshin felt the unspoken words echo between them. O'Neill's gaze dug at his, defiant, challenging, as so many warriors had challenged over the decades....

Violet eyes acknowledged that challenge, and let it flow away like running water.

_You have lost_.

O'Neill drew in a sharp breath. "You," he bit out. "You're coming with me."

Kenshin inclined his head. Accepted the snarling paper box Kaoru pressed into his hands, even as she brushed comforting fingers along his arm. "That I will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omoroca (sometimes thought to be another name for Tiamat) is mentioned in the Stargate episode "Fire and Water". Tiamat as queen of dragons was associated with earthquakes as well as the abyss of the sea.
> 
> 11-80 - Accident, major injury.  
> B.O.L.O. - Be on the lookout.
> 
> Translations from Japanese:
> 
> Che - Damn.  
> K'so - Damn it. (Stronger version.)  
> Gaki - "Hungry ghost". Sometimes takes the form of a cloud of smoke or ball of flames.  
> 'Kaa-san - Mother.  
> Shinai - bamboo practice sword.  
> Rurouni - "wanderer, vagabond". (Nobuhiro Watsuki made this word up. So it goes.)  
> Hitokiri - man-slicer, assassin.  
> Hitokiri Battousai - legendary assassin of the Ishin Shishi; a.k.a. Himura Kenshin.  
> Ryuu Mei San - (Screaming Dragon Flash or Scream of the Dragon that Deafens): Use enhanced speed to quickly sheathe the sword, causing a sound that distorts the hearing of those with enhanced senses.  
> Houshi - priest.  
> Karyuu - a very small red dragon (only 7' long, as opposed to the usual 40' or 100'), associated with flame.  
> Kirei na kaori - Beautiful fragrance.  
> Ofuda - paper talismans.  
> Miko - Shrine maiden.  
> Oni - Ogre.  
> Battoujutsu - a.k.a. "iai" or "nuki"; press blade's edge against the inside of the sheath, draw the sword quickly to increase the speed of the swing two to three times normal, striking before the opponent can react.


	4. Chapter 4

_Kendo instructor_ , Jack thought darkly, exchanging nods with the guards as his team plus one short redhead made their way down through the SGC to meet General Hammond. _Kendo instructor._

_The hell this guy's a kendo instructor_.

Jack O'Neill had met plenty of soldiers and martial artists over the years, including one or two that hauled out holiday outfits even fancier than the one walking beside him. He'd seen deep eyes before. Eyes that had seen blood, and seen challengers, and could calculate in an instant who would win if hands were raised in anger.

_Himura's eyes_....

A long time ago, much longer than he liked to think about, Lieutenant O'Neill had had a very calm, very _quiet_ military history professor. Not too tall, not too short, brown hair, clothes that looked like they'd been recycled from a thrift-store. You wouldn't give Professor Asher a second glance... until he stood in front of a class and made the old battles come alive. Tactics, strategy, and all the myriad human factors of love and betrayal and misguided motives swirled together in his lectures, laying out not just _who_ and _where_ , but _why_ and _how_ and _what did they fight for?_

Himura knew what he fought for.

Quiet. Unassuming. Almost the complete opposite of the ramrod-straight airman O'Neill had aspired to be. Jack hadn't really appreciated Asher. Not until years later, when Captain O'Neill had walked into a rifle range near his old school at a very odd hour... and found himself casually out-shot by the quiet, gentle, absent-minded guy three lanes away.

Professor Asher, the astonished Captain had discovered after digging up a few records he really shouldn't have been looking at, was an ex-Army sniper.

With a price on his head.

And a list of kills to make even a hardened Black Ops operator look twice.

"I wonder why you did not seek out a houshi, that I do."

Jack let his glance slide down to meet Kenshin's as the elevator door opened. _Should I tell him about Williams?_ Janet had called in just a few minutes ago, discussing treatment options with Ms. Kamiya even as she gave her frustrated report. Williams was still hanging in there, but only just; Janet had shooed off MPs and Jack's advice alike, commandeering O'Connell and Cameron to find the woman who'd passed the creature to the sergeant in the first place.

_No_ , Jack decided. Himura was a tough enough nut to crack. Better to save that bit of news for when it might do some good. "Only number I had time for was on retreat. Some monk thing."

"They are always on retreat from the world." Violet eyes gave up nothing. "Or at least, from the telemarketers."

Great. He had a crazy samurai with a sense of humor... Wait a sec. "Daniel? What's the difference between a swordsman and a samurai?"

Sam gave her commanding officer an odd look. _You want to know this_ now?

Oh yeah, he did. Especially given that little smile glimmering in violet eyes.

"Well... samurai was actually a hereditary class, if I remember right." Daniel nudged up his glasses, looking over the man now walking between him and Teal'c. "We think of them as swordsmen, but their main aim was to serve their lords, however they were needed. And they weren't the only people who learned how to use swords." Daniel hesitated. "Though I thought samurai and their retainers were the only people who were supposed to carry _daisho_. Paired swords," he added for Jack's benefit.

Himura's smile deepened. "Not always."

Daniel's brow rose. "No?"

"No." Kenshin glanced idly upward, shrugged. Tucked the palm-sized paper box of monster into a fold in his gi, letting his hands swing free. "If you were truly interested, you might investigate the history of Meiji."

Meiji. Jack filed the name away, along with that upward glance; one of many subtle checks of his position Himura had made throughout their trip. _Ceiling heights. He's checking the ceiling heights. Why?_

And why was he untying his hair ribbon?

Red hair fell free in a scarlet wave, concealing young features for a moment before swift fingers gathered it up again, retying red strands at the nape of his neck. Quick, casual-

Violet blinked up at Jack from under a fringe of cardinal bangs, innocent as a lost kitten. "Oro?"

_Oh no_. Disbelieving, Jack watched an adolescent stumble infiltrate Himura's gait; a loose-limbed awkwardness that turned the deadly swordsman into just another hapless young redhead playing historical dress-up. _Oh, hell_.

Teal'c made a choked noise. Sam looked between them, bewildered. Daniel's brows bounced toward his hairline as they stopped outside the briefing room, the guards' glance registering SG-1 and passing over Himura - swords and all - in one snap judgment of _weird but harmless_.

_I'm going to have to_ talk _to those guys later..._ Shoulders braced, Jack walked in, knowing his job had just gotten exponentially more difficult. _Oh lord, I'm never going to get the general to believe this._

And then he saw who was standing behind the heavy executive table a few feet away from General Hammond, and realized Himura might be the least of his problems. "Kennedy." _What rock did you crawl out from under?_

Colonel Algernon Kennedy, Joint Chiefs of Staff flunky, Area 51 spook, would-be dissector of alien allies, and general weaselly pain in the _mikta_. " _Colonel_ O'Neill."

"It would seem the Pentagon found your reports of a potential new incapacitant interesting enough to merit further investigation, Colonel," General Hammond said dryly.

Damn. That was fast.

"Incapacitant?" Sam kept most of the skepticism off her face. "Sir?"

"From the symptoms reported..." Kennedy narrowed eyes at the redhead just stumbling through the doorway under Teal'c watchful hand. "What is this civilian doing here?"

"Hello to you too. Haven't seen you in years," Jack said dryly. _Would've been just as happy not to see you until Apophis slips on a banana peel, you sleaze._ "Mr. Himura's a local expert on Japanese folklore. He was assisting us with some field research on gakis."

"Ah, that would be gaki," Daniel murmured. "Japanese doesn't use many plurals."

"Otherwise known as your so-called incapacitant," Jack rolled on regardless. "Turns out it's not that new after all, General. Heck, it's downright _mythical_." _You better be as quick on the uptake as I think you are, Himura. I won't let Kennedy walk off with a civilian if I can help it, but if he grabs your little box..._

"It was an honor to demonstrate the old traditions," Kenshin nodded with the kind of wide-eyed wonder Jack would have associated with any civilian teen brought down into the concrete warrens of the Mountain. "There are so few who ask anymore, even when we perform our historical reenactments."

_Oh, so you're a historical re-enactor now_ , Jack thought wryly. _Good one._ He cast a glance toward his team. _Don't blow this._ We _can't lie to Kennedy, even if he is an uptight, desk-flying, pencil-pushing, sanctimonious idiot._

At least, he and Carter couldn't lie to the jerk. No matter how much Jack wanted to. Kennedy's presence had turned that inked box from dangerous hazard to all-out nightmare. Technically, the SGC had had the critter first - if you could call having a quarter of your personnel coming down sick having it. Technically, once alien technology got out of the SGC, it was supposed to be Area 51's problem. And technically, Himura as a U.S. citizen was subject to five to ten years, Federal time, just for having come in contact with an extraterrestrial lifeform. Kennedy damn well _could_ walk off with Kenshin if he pulled the right strings.

Or at the very least, the box. If he got hold of it.

_Damned if I'm going to let the spooks at Nellis mess with something that might be able to breed on Earth_.

"I would be glad to speak with Dr. Jackson further about the ancient stories, now that the phenomenon has ceased," Himura went on.

"Ceased?" Kennedy's nostrils flared.

"Such hysteria runs its course in time, General," Kenshin said firmly. "I know how disturbing it is when a momentary lapse of mind brings the old superstitions to life, but I believe you will have no further difficulties."

"Hysteria," Hammond said thoughtfully.

"Dr. Fraiser said she'd have her full report to you as soon as possible, sir," Sam spoke up. "She says that outside of her exposure, there's no way any trace of the mushroom could have escaped containment, and in any case, the compounds in it just couldn't have caused the problems we've seen around the base."

"I have noticed an air of tension among some members of our command," Teal'c noted, dark gaze none too subtly boring into that of the man who'd wanted to let Kawalsky die to study his symbiote. "Perhaps we should advise them to cease telling... ghost stories."

"Ghost stories?" Kennedy said bleakly.

"I could list some books for you, that I could." Kenshin smiled, sunny as a storyteller caught up in his favorite pastime. "Many of those in English were written for children, but there are a few translations you might find readable. And then there are the kabuki plays, of course..."

Funny, the kind of colors a man like Kennedy could turn when frustration bit down. Jack hid his grin. _Almost there, don't blow it now._

"My grandchildren might appreciate that," Hammond said thoughtfully. "Well, Colonel, given the circumstances, we won't take up any more of your valuable time." He waved a casual hand. "I'm sure you know your way out."

Kennedy's eyes snapped; kind of like the last stray kernel of popcorn, trying to sear some unwary hand. "General-"

"Colonel." Hammond's subtle smile held a not-so-subtle appreciation of their difference in rank. "Dismissed."

_Aaand... score one for the good guys!_ Jack bit down on the urge to give the departing annoyance an old-fashioned Bronx cheer as grinning airmen escorted Kennedy out.

The door closed. Hammond looked them all over, sparing a long minute for Kenshin. Shook his head. "As satisfying as that may have been, ladies and gentlemen, he will be back. I would prefer that the problem was solved before then." The general frowned. "Given that my people have brought you here, Mr. Himura, I must assume it's not."

"Not quite, no." Adolescent awkwardness slid away like water. Kenshin took out the paper box and laid it on the center of the table, face sober and calm. "It is indeed a gaki, General. Or something very like one."

"Which is...?"

"A creature which feeds on the essence of others. Daniel can tell you more. Later." Kenshin looked Jack's way. "What did you plan to do?"

"I was kind of thinking we might toss it right back where it came from," Jack said judiciously. "Fair's fair."

"Sir," Sam objected. "Given what it can do-"

"Those we encountered are not ignorant of their danger, Major Carter," Teal'c pointed out. "It would seem apt."

"And that's why we shouldn't bring it back," Daniel put in.

"Daniel," Jack said patiently. "If our _friends_ know about these things, I doubt we got tagged with it by accident."

"Exactly," the archaeologist nodded. "We've just met them. Daire's... associates... could have all kinds of relationships we can't even imagine yet. If they do know about these creatures - how would we know who's responsible? Or even why they did it? We can't just let it loose and hope it eats whoever doesn't like us."

Jack opened his mouth - and shut it, hearing truth sink home. "You're right."

"In any case, it would not be not possible," Kenshin informed them. "Kaoru is no miko, and I am no houshi; that I am not. We can hunt such creatures. Trap them, for a time. But we cannot bind them." His hand touched the box again. "Were I to walk more than ten paces from this slight prison, it would wear its way through and be free." Silk shrugged. "I do not know where you would be going that gaki are common, but I sense you would not wish to bring me if it could be avoided."

"I would have to agree with you, sir," Hammond observed. "However, I cannot in good conscience allow a dangerous creature to leave the confines of this mountain." His voice dropped. "We brought it here. It's our job to keep it from hurting anyone else."

Kenshin checked the briefing room's tall ceiling again, and smiled. "That, is possible." He bowed to the general. "If you would step back?"

Daniel glanced at Kenshin, ceiling, box. Gulped. "Um... make that _way_ back."

"Daniel?" Jack asked as Hammond moved back, brow climbing toward his retreating hairline.

"Trust me, Jack. And don't blink. You've got to see this to believe it-"

Red silk blurred upward. Jack caught a whisper of sandals against a hard surface, a flash as steel flew free-

"Ryuu Tsui Sen!"

White fire erupted from cleaved paper, consuming a cloud that wove and struggled upward. Dark ashes swirled into the air, settling in black shreds on polished oak as the last bit of cloud shattered into glowing sparks.

Touching down, Kenshin sheathed his blade. "There."

Holding up a hand to stop the guns that had appeared from various airmen's holsters, the general drew in a breath. " _Mr._ Himura-"

"Oro?"

Faced with wide-eyed innocence, even Hammond blinked. Cleared his throat. "That's it?"

"Gaki feed often," Kenshin said simply. "Confinement weakened it. And now those it has injured should recover." He bowed once again. "I have classes to teach, and Kaoru will be waiting. So I wish you a good evening, General Hammond."

"Yes, I - wait." The general reclaimed his voice. "Just _how_ did you get a sword through security?"

A _sword?_ Jack thought, amazed. _He's carrying two!_

Kenshin's smile glinted with mischief. "Like the gaki, General... some things can only be seen if one knows where to look." He regarded Daniel. "Perhaps Dr. Jackson could see that I am properly escorted out?"

Sam shook herself out of her contemplation of paper ash. "Sir, if I could go with them? Just to smooth the way out. Colonel Kennedy might still be in the vicinity, and I have a few technical questions on what just happened here..."

"Go," Hammond ordered.

"So?" Jack asked after the door shut behind them. Teal'c was usually quiet, but this was pushing it.

"I believe Tek'mateh Bra'tac would be hard-pressed to bring him down." Teal'c watched the door, listening out into the hall. Frowning. "I believe I would not wish to try, without a detachment of snipers."

"So he's fast with a sword," Jack said uneasily. "I still don't buy that light-show. He probably just put flash powder in the box, or something." He touched black ash, meaning to bring it to his nose and sniff for the betraying scent of sulfur.

With a quiet creak, the table collapsed.

Hammond stared.

Jack stepped forward just enough to touch one edge of the slash that had split solid oak like kindling. _Yow. Sharp._ "I don't believe this." Eyed scuff marks on the ceiling, and shook his head. _Note to self: do not try to fight flying swordsman in tall space!_

* * *

"And breathe in... good," Dr. Fraiser said tiredly, stepping back from the examination table she'd borrowed from the St. Gwinifred staff. "Well, Sergeant, I'd have to say that outside of one impressively photogenic bruise, you are in disgustingly good health for someone who was making me tear my hair out just a few hours ago."

Holding the man's pulse, Kaoru nodded. "Take it easy for a few days, and you should be fine."

Just inside the doorway, Mel Cameron let out a breath of relief. A check of various emergency rooms and clinics had turned up the woman Williams had met - one Dani Jones, dazed and tired and nowhere near as badly off as the sergeant. Janet had given her a quick check, put her on a cot for exhaustion, and gone back to her struggle to keep Williams breathing. _Thank god that's over._

Clad in white hospital cotton, Williams touched the edge of his chest and winced. "God. Feels like I got shot."

"You pretty much did." Ryan held up a wall beside the door, grinning with relief. "My mother got curious and clocked a couple of Kenshin's swings once. Guy can break the sound barrier if he tries."

"Just as glad I don't remember seeing it." Williams got down from the table gingerly, toes curling up from chill tile. "No offense, Ms. Kamiya, but your husband's a little..."

"Strange?" Kaoru suggested. "Weird? Out there? Trust me, I've heard it all." She smiled. "Some things just never change."

"Good thing," Ryan added. "Uncle's usually right."

Janet shot him a look. "Himura's your uncle?"

_Yeah, I've wondered about that_ , Mel thought wryly. Tall, dark, and lean; her partner was nothing like Himura's small, fair grace.

"Well, kind of. Not exactly," Ryan hedged.

"Some of our relatives married some of Ryan's," Kaoru explained, amused.

"And 'Kaa-san says you could hear the uproar over that all the way from Tokyo," Ryan shuddered. "Though that's _nothing_ compared to what 'Jiisan said when Kisho Shinomori came asking after Aunt Sorano's hand..." He eyed Fraiser, and thought better of whatever he'd been about to say. "Anyway. I've called Kenshin 'Uncle' for years. He listens."

"Hard to find," the military doctor agreed. "Speaking of." She stripped off her gloves, rubbed tired eyes with the back of her hand. "Ms. Kamiya. It's late, and I'm not up to twenty questions tonight. Would you and your husband be willing to have a medical discussion with me tomorrow? Or within a few days? I do _not_ want to be treating patients in the dark again."

"Give me your number," Kaoru said firmly. "Let's see what we can work out. There's another doctor you might want to talk to; Megumi Takani..."

Leaving the two medicine women to their exchange of notes, Mel grabbed her partner's sleeve. "O'Connell? It's later."

Ryan flicked a glance at her. Bit his lip. Nodded. "We'd better take this outside."

"Okay." Mel drank in the breeze filtering through the trees on St. Gwinifred's front lawn, feeling her antiseptic-spawned headache ease. "You said your family was strange. I thought you meant 'Cousin Harold got run over by a wheat combine' strange. _Not_ Ghostbusters, Inc.!"

"We're not... ghostbusters. Trust me."

"You hunt gaki," she pointed out.

"Only when we have to." Ryan shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. "Before they come hunting us. Because of what we are."

" _What_ you are?" Mel crossed her arms. "Partner. If you drag out the 'alien from another planet' line, I am out of here." She paused. "No, I'm punching you out. _Then_ I'm out of here... what's so funny?"

Ryan's shoulders were shaking with laughter. "Alien. Oh, man. 'Kaa-san told me people would probably..." Snickering, he shook his head. "Alien-!"

"Hey! You give me a line like that, what am I supposed to think?"

"Heh." Still grinning, Ryan looked at her. And sobered. "This is going to sound strange. And it goes back to a lot of legends. Like gaki. Just hear me out, okay?"

"This whole day has been one ball of weirdness." Mel arched skeptical brows. "Talk."

Ryan nodded. "You heard about the mess in New York?"

Mel connected _mess_ and _not human_. "People turning into animated drain-spouts? I thought that was just some weird media hysteria."

"Gargoyles, yeah, and it wasn't," Ryan nodded. "They're in Japan, too. My grandfather's met some who weren't ever human."

Mel let out a low whistle. "You're saying..."

"They're another intelligent race. Yeah. And they're not the only one." Almost green in the night, hazel eyes held hers, with just a flicker to the side.

_Damn. He's scared stiff._ "Just spit it out, partner."

"Japanese legends call them youkai," Ryan said quietly. "They're shape-changers. Not mimics, they always have their own forms; one animal, one... almost human. They're creatures of magic. Very dangerous. Even the tricksters, like the tanuki and the kitsune; just because they usually _don't_ hurt you doesn't mean they can't. Humans and gargoyles both tend to avoid them. But once in a while... well, somebody falls for somebody else." He gave her a weak smile. "And the kids usually end up pretty confused."

Mel wet her lips. _I will_ not _run. This is my partner. Just like he was yesterday._ "One of your parents was a youkai?"

"No," Ryan shook his head. "One of my grandparent's parents was. Wolf-youkai, we're pretty sure."

_One of your grandparents is half youkai. Great._ Mel pressed a hand to her throbbing head. "I think I need to sit down."

"There's a bench over this way."

"How do you..." She looked at him. _Really_ looked at him, taking in the green shine of his eyes for what it was, not just a trick of mind and light. "You can see in the dark, can't you?"

"Took my mom forever to pound in that most people can't," Ryan admitted, holding out his arm to guide her to the painted steel bench. "Drove my dad nuts; power would go out, and 'Kaa-san and I would be walking around like nothing happened...."

Right; from all the conversations her partner had avoided, Russell O'Connell was a sore spot. _And I thought it was just because he was dead_ , Mel thought ruefully, brushing off a stray leaf before she sat. _He didn't like what you are, did he? Ouch._ "So Kaoru and Kenshin are half-youkai?"

Ryan seized the change of subject gratefully. "Hanyou. And no, Aunt Kaoru's human. Tough as a bucket of nails, but human."

"Kenshin," Mel said firmly.

"You ask him," Ryan shot back, just as firm.

"Count on it." She let the silence rest between them a minute. "So, is it just seeing in the dark and being tasty to monsters, or what?"

"Has its ups and downs," her partner shrugged. "I have good night vision. I can pick out people by their scent, if they're close. I know a few... I guess you'd call them energy-manipulating tricks. Nothing flashy."

"Magic?"

"...Yeah."

"And you're stronger than I am, and faster than I am," Mel said evenly. That, she'd seen for herself.

"And I can be hurt by some things _you_ walk through without a scratch," Ryan stated. "Trust me, there's a lot of little protective spells scattered around some places. I'd rather walk through fire than Chin's Herbal Emporium."

Mel drummed her finger on dewy metal. "I need to think about this."

"Okay." Subdued, her partner rose to go.

"Wait a minute, damn it..." She held up an accusing finger. "You are not going _anywhere_ until you explain the sniffing."

"Ah. Right." Ryan tugged at his shirt collar. "I, um, like your scent. A lot."

"My perfume?" Mel said blankly. She didn't use much; just enough to put witnesses at ease before she worked around a dead body. After the body, no amount of scent would help.

"No. Your scent. Like chocolate, and those feathered masks you keep in the closet for Halloween, and the pebbles from your aquarium, and... I'll see you at work. Tomorrow." Quick as a shadow, he was gone.

_He likes my scent_. Mel blinked. _So... there's some kind of wolf in his background, and he likes my scent enough to cuddle...._

Oh.

In human terms, Ryan thought she was a looker.

And he'd run rather than talk about it.

"Which just goes to show," Detective Melle Cameron declaimed to the night, "Human, hanyou, or whatever, guys are still _idiots!_ "


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Credit to Ellen Brand for Jack's me ga mirareru. Cool idea!

_Sometimes, I really hate it when Jack's right_.

Kneeling behind and to Major Mary Roscoe's right, Daniel watched and listened as the brunette went through the formalities with Lady Daire on Sam's behalf, ready to murmur a subtle word if her grasp of the local dialect faltered. Jack and Teal'c were behind all three of them, sitting in the cross-legged pose expected of male bola warriors, calm and patient and ready to take this hall apart stone by stone if necessary.

Despite what some of SG-3 might think, he wasn't completely oblivious to communication that wasn't carved on rocks. The leather-clad villagers' quiet whispers and sidelong glances were clear and unmistakable as Vegas neon.

_They didn't expect to see us come back_.

And when Daniel glanced about the tapestry-strewn hall, there were just _way_ too many bland looks pasted across the kilted advisors' faces. Especially the swarthy, twisted-haired _draoch_ , Gerrit.

_They_ really _didn't expect to see us back._

What hurt was... he wasn't even surprised. Amazed, yes. Sad, definitely. But not surprised.

_We're a threat to the local power structure_ , Dr. Jackson realized, crossing his arms to surreptitiously wipe sweaty palms on his sleeves as Roscoe diplomatically circled toward the reason they'd returned. _Once Lady Daire understood we wanted to fight the gods, but not her enemies, we weren't any use to her. And when we said we wouldn't turn over our weapons..._

_Daire can't believe we might not give them to her enemies. She can't afford to._

"And so," Roscoe concluded, "Our _draoch_ found this eater-of-spirit, and worried it free of flesh, and destroyed it." With a deliberate flourish, she slapped an _ofuda_ to the ground before Sam's knees.

_So there_ , Daniel thought, resisting the urge to stick out his tongue. He watched Gerrit's eyes widen instead, gaze tracing the alien black characters on stark white.

"An impressive claim. But is it so?" With a crook of iron-ringed fingers, Lady Daire waved the _draoch_ forward.

From the tremor in Gerrit's jaw, he obviously didn't want to go anywhere near that foreign strip of paper.

_Tough_.

Stepping forward, Gerrit reached for the _ofuda_. Hesitated. Frowned, and picked it up as if it were a dead rat. "It... is not familiar, my lady. But it seems as if it might serve to ward against a corpse-smoke. If it were complete."

Daniel eyed the _ofuda_ 's torn lower edge. _So that's why Kenshin stripped off the bloodstain before he gave it to me. He was disarming it._

Good call. If they had any edge over these _corpse-smokes_ , he didn't want to give it away here.

Daire regarded them, face expressionless. "Proof of warding is no proof of binding, much less of destruction-"

Grim smile twitching at the corners of her mouth, Major Roscoe cast Sam a significant glance. Catching her cue, the astrophysicist opened a small manila envelope, and tipped out ashes.

The whole hall went silent.

_Yep. Jack was right. Talk gets you a lot of places, but drama works faster_.

Daire's eyes narrowed slightly.

"Don't flinch!" Daniel hissed over his shoulder.

Carved granite whirled lazily through the air at Daire's nodded command. One on each side of her, the pair of bola-throwers started picking up their weapons' speed, cord starting to blur as they prepared to throw.

Jack lifted his eyes to the standing guards, and smiled.

_Hello, I'm Colonel O'Neill, and I'll be your personal executioner today_ , Daniel thought wryly. The archaeologist kept his gaze on Sam, willing her to stay as focused and cool as he knew she could. Sam was the leader here, as far as Daire was concerned; it was her nerve that would make or break their fate.

_Hang in there, Sam. One more second, one more... now!_

As one, Daire and Sam looked away.

_Don't gasp_ , Daniel told himself. Carved stone had slowed, dropping back to its wielders' sides. But the bolas were still out and ready. _Don't even look surprised. We've got to get out of this with both Sam_ and _Daire's dignity intact. This could still go badly. Very badly._

Lady Daire rose; the rest of the hall dropped to its knees. "This audience is over."

* * *

 

"Well. That was a barrel of laughs." Keeping a wary eye on their honor guard as they were escorted out of the village, Major Roscoe wiped sweating hands on her fatigues. "So how'd we do, sir?"

"We're still in one piece, they're still in one piece, and Gerrit was in it up to his fuzzy eyebrows. I'd call that a win," Jack observed, tramping down the path to the Stargate with a cheerful air. The bola-throwers had just turned back, though that sense of _being watched_ hadn't diminished. "Daniel?"

The archaeologist frowned, thinking over the audience. His right hand dug into his vest pocket, feeling the slick wrapper of an energy bar, the slim sliding rounds of dimes and pennies. Absently he took in the subdued distance of those villagers still working gardens near their path, the catch of moisture in his throat as the meandering trail led near a lower, swampy area. "I think-"

White smoke.

Not surprised, Daniel threw his handful of change.

"Daniel-"

"O'Neill!" Teal'c pointed toward the sizzle of metal meeting energy.

Hissing, the tiny corpse-smoke wriggled away.

Picking up his blackened coins, Daniel watched it go.

"Daniel, is that safe?" Sam almost pounced on him.

"It's gone," Daniel shrugged, gesturing toward the brighter green herbs that hinted there was a lowland swamp just beyond that ridge of trees. "I don't see any others."

"Guess deserts give you a good eye for heat-shimmer," Jack said finally.

"I didn't see heat-shimmer, Jack," Daniel said quietly. "I saw smoke. White smoke."

Jack mulled that over. Squinted, giving the path behind them a long, considering look. "Let's get the hell out of here."

* * *

 

Surrounded by sheaves of printout, Jack glared at his humming computer.

"I could requisition a zat, sir. Put it out of your misery."

"Very funny, Carter."

Sam leaned past his shoulder, shaking her head at the odd mishmash of information on the screen. "You know, Daniel could probably have done this a lot faster..."

"I know Daniel could do it faster," Jack acknowledged. "But he's out. He deserves to be out. And I'm the one Himura gave the riddle to." He shrugged. "I know the answer's in here. I just need a little help sorting it out."

Blonde brows bounced over blue eyes. "If you say so."

"Trust me, Carter. I've met guys like this before. It was a riddle. That whole 'oro' act is a riddle. He's waving it in my face. _Daring_ me to figure it out." Jack rolled his eyes. "Probably thinks I need a 'learning experience'."

Whatever Sam had been about to say, she apparently thought better of it. "So. He's a Kamiya Kasshin Ryu instructor..."

"Dates back to Japan's Meiji Era, right when they put the sword-ban in," Jack muttered, looking over his scattered notes. Steamships, Gatling guns, and railroads - and there were still enough people wearing swords for them to have to make it against the law?

"Only his _real_ style, from those footprints on the general's ceiling, is Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu." Sam shook her head.

"According to Daniel. Which barely gets a mention as some kind of weird legend from the Sengoku era," Jack grumbled. " _About_ 1482 to 1558? What, they couldn't get any more specific?"

"It does fit with when any swordsman might be carrying two swords," Sam nodded. "According to these," she waved a hand over drifting printout, "They didn't restrict it to just samurai until the seventeenth century."

"Which would be way before this... Meiji Restoration Himura said we should check out."

Sam turned up empty hands. "Maybe he had his dates wrong?"

Jack arched an eyebrow. "Ya think?"

"No," Sam admitted.

"Which means..." Jack prompted.

"It's your riddle, sir."

"Gnrgh."

"Aspirin?"

"Later." When he could think of how to properly _thank_ her for being so bright and cheery. Say, with a ten-mile hike or so. Damn it, this wasn't _working_...

"Is he a good teacher?"

Jack blinked up again. "Come again?"

"Is Himura a good teacher?" Sam backed up half a step, cocked her head slightly to the side. "I've just seen him fight. I haven't seen him teach. Does he respect his students? Pay attention to them?"

"Yeah," Jack said thoughtfully, going over that class in his head. Kaoru was a better teacher, firing her students with enthusiasm; but it was Kenshin who got the scared ones moving again, stepping in when their own shaky confidence wasn't up to the strain. Showing them how to make it _safe_... and then easing out his support, until they were standing on their own. "Yeah, he is."

Asher had shown him that a good teacher didn't just stand there and lecture. A good teacher studied his students, gauging for himself what they knew and how best to reach them.

_Maybe you're thinking too hard_.

Forget the facts. Ignore the shaky historical trail. What did he _know?_

"He's a killer," Jack murmured.

"Sir..."

"He _is_ a killer, Major." Jack drummed his fingers absently on his desk. "You don't get eyes like that swinging wooden-"

Fingers stopped.

_You don't get eyes like that swinging wooden swords_.

_"_ You... _will not kill him."_

"Sir?"

"He knew what he was doing." Jack put his finger on that nagging feeling of familiarity. "He knew _exactly_ what he was doing. And exactly how fine he could cut it before Williams _would_ be dead." He glanced at his suddenly sober 2IC. "Himura's killed with a sword. Face to face. More than once."

Sam shook her head, confused. "Sir, I believe you, but - how? Where? He's only twenty-four-"

"Why, 'cause the computer says he is?" Jack let out a slow, irritated breath. "Heck, the computer says only samurai were supposed to have paired swords in the Meiji Restoration."

"Which was supposed to be the end result of some democratic movement?" Sam shuffled through a few pages, skimming dates.

"Democratic movement, Shogunate oppression, clan alliances, a couple hundred factions on either side - _big_ mess," Jack summed up. "The bits I got said Japan turned upside-down for years. Threw over the whole samurai class system..."

Paper rustled. "Which would mean a regular swordsman might carry paired swords."

Genius. Sam was a regular genius. Only - wait. "He'd have to be one heck of a nervy swordsman to do that," Jack said skeptically, flipping through a web-site that purported to sum up the history of Kamiya Kasshin Ryu. "After this mess was settled you had the sword-ban. Before that you'd be open season for any samurai who decided to get ticked off." Himura had the kind of nerve and skill that long-ago swordsman would have needed, sure, but what did events of over a hundred and thirty years ago have to do with today?

Jack opened another page, and stopped.

"Sir...?"

"I see it, Carter."

Sam approached the screen, eyes narrowed, as if the image might change with a blink. "That date can't be right."

"Why not?"

She gave him a _look_ , of the "I haven't seen you get hit on the head _recently_ , sir" variety.

"Why not?" Jack repeated. Inside he felt just as dazed and skeptical as Sam looked. It couldn't be. It _shouldn't_ be. But....

_Invisible things shouldn't try to eat you, either_.

"Think of it as a challenge, Carter." Jack tapped the screen, right over that ancient, impossible photo. "Prove this isn't real."

* * *

 

"So he ran off and left you, and now he won't talk about it." Sweeping the last bits of grit in the dojo into one corner, Kaoru gripped her broom like a bokken, swinging at an imaginary Ryan's head. "Typical."

"Typical hanyou, or just typical guy?" Mel asked pointedly, standing well back of the bristles. "I mean, he dumps this on me, and just-" She threw up her hands. "I knew he trusted me, but with this?"

"The first time I met Kenshin, I called him a murderer and tried to make a citizen's arrest. The hard way." Kaoru had to smile at the memory. She'd been so serious that long-ago night in Tokyo, young and angry and determined to hunt down the danger to her school and city. "He just jumped away from the blow, crashed into the wall of a house, and blinked up at me with those big innocent eyes..."

"Oh lord, the eyes." Mel snickered. "Murderer? You didn't really think...." The detective sobered. "Williams. Ryan was so sure Kenshin really would do it."

Kaoru nodded. "I was out that night looking for a dangerous man, Mel. And I found one. I just didn't realize how well he'd hidden that part of himself. Not until he saved me from the real killer." She lowered the bristles to the floor. "And that's when he told me who he really was. And that he was sorry he'd caused any trouble, and that he was _leaving_ -"

_He's leaving, and he was so kind, and I'll be alone again_ -

_What am I_ thinking? _He's_ Hitokiri Battousai!

_But... the war is over. And he looks so sad..._

Kaoru held up a clenched fist. "And that's when I told him there was no way he was going _anywhere_ until he helped me clean up the mess! Unconscious goons all over the place! A murderer smashed into my dojo floor! And he was going to just wander off into the night... oooh!"

"Er." Mel sidestepped the waving fist. "So you're saying I should just keep Ryan from running?"

"If he told you about family, his heart is already yours," Kaoru said simply. "You just need to give him some time for his head to figure it out. If you want him to figure it out?"

"I don't know." Mel paced the dojo, socks sliding across the polished floor. "Why me? Is it just because I smell good? Because, no offense, but-"

Kaoru smiled. "It's your chi."

Mel stopped, socks skidding a little. "My energy?"

"Energy, personality; everything that you are," Kaoru nodded. "You're a warrior. It glows around you. You never give up, and you never give in, and if you can't beat your enemies hand-to-hand you'll plot your way to a place where you can get them to destroy themselves. To someone with the eyes and training to see it, you burn like a bonfire. Especially when you fight." She regarded the younger woman with an impish grin. "You should have seen Kenshin's face when I finally got him to spar with me." Love and wonder and amber sparking in violet with pure, fierce joy... oh, she'd _known_ he was hers then.

Mel blinked. "Too much information," she muttered under her breath.

"For a detective?" Kaoru set aside her broom. "Let me tell you the basics about youkai...."

* * *

 

A few blocks from the dojo, deft fingers searched through the mulch of a community garden, plucking out weed after seedling weed from squash vines and growing stalks of bush beans. "Now this," Kenshin stated, holding up a small, lanky plant with rounded diamond leaves, "Is called lamb's quarters. _Chenopodium album_."

"Good to eat!" Honoria Jacobs, Honori to adults who taught her how to juggle stones, sprawled on the path by the raised bed and grinned at him. Kinky brown hair straggled out of her ponytail, small gaps in her smile showed where the tooth fairy had recently visited, and grass and dirt had laid new stains on the young girl's favorite set of coveralls.

"That it is. Sniff," Kenshin instructed, passing the plant into smaller, dirt-stained fingers.

Honori sat up and brushed the soft leaves against her nose. "Smells green?"

"As it should. If it does not smell green, but ill and pungent, you have seized on another herb entirely."

"So don't eat it if it smells bad?" Honori said uncertainly.

Kenshin nodded his approval. "That you should not." And now the fierce chi was finally moving, decided. "Honori? Perhaps you might practice your juggling, by the carrots." He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I believe I am about to have a very boring conversation with a stranger."

Brown eyes went wide at _stranger_. "Are you going to be okay, Ken-san?"

"I will be fine, that I will." Kenshin watched her scamper off, noting one sneaker was untied. Again. "Good morning, O'Neill."

O'Neill sat down beside him on the path. A few pages were folded over in his hand, crinkled as if fingers had worried them since dawn. "Karen's kid?"

"That she is." Kenshin sorted his pile of weeds into edible and not, setting the one in his garden basket and tossing the other into a lawn bag to be made mulch. O'Neill had chosen to sit on his right; not his left, where his sakabatou lay sheathed beside him. _So you came to talk, not fight. Wise._ "Such a bright little one. One would not think her half-orphaned but a year ago."

"Ah..."

"Her father," Kenshin said mildly, "Was a Marine. Sergeant Robert Jacobs."

Silence.

"At times I wonder how he died under your Mountain, that I do."

"Ken-san?" O'Neill asked pointedly.

With a shrug, Kenshin allowed him to evade the question. "Karen was one of our students in San Francisco, before she left with her husband. She was delighted to find us here. We hope to convince her to continue in Kamiya Kasshin Ryu this time. She has the gift to be a fine instructor, that she does."

O'Neill eyed him as if he held a poisonous viper. "And what kind of gift does Daniel have?"

"One akin to yours," Kenshin said levelly. "You have _me ga mirareru_ ; the eyes that can see. Your training, your work in the shadows... it has taught you to see what is truly there, not simply what you expect to be there."

"I didn't ask you-"

"But your sight is still mortal, rooted in flesh and bone." Kenshin met his gaze, unyielding. "Daniel's sight is rooted in his heart."

O'Neill's lips thinned. "Which means?"

"What you have already noticed, but could not name," Kenshin said plainly. "He trusts in the unlikeliest of places, and he is seldom wrong."

"And you're a seldom if I ever saw one," O'Neill said coolly.

Kenshin brushed dirt off his hands. "And why would one such as you say that? I do wonder. Surely a humble swordsman is no threat to what miracles of science might take place in the bowels of your Mountain."

"Humble swordsman my ass." Paper unfolded. "Explain this."

Kenshin gazed on the black-and-white image printed on the page, amazement and laughter warring for control. _Where in the worlds did he find... oh, kami, no wonder he's so frustrated!_ Having one's world tilt so thoroughly askew could set far lesser spirits on edge.

_Tokyo, 1900, Kamiya Dojo, Kamiya Kasshin Master Myojin Yahiko_ , the caption read below a tall, dark young swordsman whose hair still had a tendency to stick out at odd angles, even as he stood in the center of his own dojo. Other names were listed below two lines of hakama-wearing students; other youngsters still bent on learning the sword even in the modern nation Japan had become.

But two stood out, even as they'd tried to fade into the background of the picture. A smiling, dark-haired woman whose eyes were gaijin-pale, and a slightly shorter swordsman whose cheek bore a cross-shaped scar and whose hair had that odd gray tint that hinted color would find it red as fire.

_Visiting Instructors Kamiya Kaoru, Himura Kenshin_.

"I know you can't stick around too long, or people might start figuring things out," Yahiko had said that long-ago spring day as his class hurried about to prepare for the photo. Doors were open to spill in sunlight; a breeze had taken advantage of this tactical opening to blow in scents of the river, wasabi, and steaming rice. "But you started this style, Kaoru-san. You should be here." He punched the redhead in the shoulder. "And you. Definitely you."

"I am not qualified as an instructor, that I am not," Kenshin objected, looking for any possible exit. Perhaps a strike to the near wall?

"You will be," Yahiko said confidently.

"He's right," Kaoru nodded, smiling. "Hiten Mitsurugi Ryu might not be a teaching style, but you've been around us long enough to pick up the basics." She lowered her voice. "And don't even think about carving through the walls, Kenshin."

His doom was sealed, then. Kenshin sighed. "Have you one in mind to succeed you as master when you must leave?"

That gave Yahiko pause. "You think I'm going to have to."

"Your speed, against Kenji? Merely human, that it was not. You've been in too many battles with me, that you have. And with Shishou. We... reached out to protect you. Perhaps too well." Kenshin shook his head. "Ten years, you might walk Tokyo unnoticed. Twenty, perhaps. No more. Though it's possible you could get hit by a wagon tomorrow, that it is," he added wryly. "Yet I think you would survive it. And _that_ might cause too many questions, indeed."

"Yeah...."

"Enough gloom!" Kaoru had raised a threatening bokken. "Let's go scare the picture-taker!"

_I miss Tokyo_ , Kenshin thought now, looking on the evidence of that spring day. _No... I miss the Tokyo that was. It is too different, now; too crowded, too driven to be so narrowly_ Japanese _the Ishin Shishi would never have risen._

_And without the Ishin Shishi, what place have the Shinsengumi?_

_I do not envy Saitou._

"Well?" O'Neill demanded.

"Well, indeed." Kenshin gave him a rurouni smile. "And what should I say?"

Jack looked at him.

Unblinking, Kenshin looked back.

"I didn't want to do this." O'Neill unfolded the rest of his pages. "For a school that's only supposed to teach self-defense, you've got one heck of a bloody history."

Kenshin's smile turned skeptical. "Surely we do not."

"Oh, I'm not talking about recent history. Not even as recent as this photo," Jack said dryly. "I'm talking _old_ history. Back when Kamiya Kasshin first got started. Tokyo, 1878."

"The eleventh year of Meiji," Kenshin said levelly. "Shortly after the style's founder, Kamiya Koshijirou, died in the Seinan Wars."

O'Neill's fingers tightened on paper. "So you do know what I'm talking about."

"I may." Kenshin spread an inviting hand. "Please, continue."

"Long story short," O'Neill stated. "Someone tried to frame the school for murder. Got away with it for a while, too. Until - and this is the interesting part - 'the name they had so fiercely abused wreaked its own vengeance'."

"Kamiya Kasshin is not meant for vengeance," Kenshin observed. _How much do you know, O'Neill? And how much do you believe?_

"Wrong name," Jack said dryly.

Ah.

"During the Bakumatsu," Jack read quietly, "One name above all others struck fear into the heart of Kyoto. A demon, who brought lightning from the sky with a katana-stroke and whose eyes burned with all the fires of hell. Though a few say he was a real human with uncanny abilities, who could draw his sword quicker than eyes could see and disappear swifter than a shadow. For five years the sky rained blood where he passed, until the battle of Toba Fushimi was won and this greatest of patriots vanished into the wind. He was... Hitokiri Battousai."

Expressionless, Kenshin waited.

"Bad guys must've gotten the shock of their lives when the _real_ hitokiri walked in on them." O'Neill lowered his pages. "If I believe that you could have been in this picture - and crazy as it sounds, damn it, I do - then I have to believe you could have been around in 1878. And before. You have blade-scars. You have _combat experience_. Hell, you probably even have PTSD." His voice dropped to a near-whisper, mindful of the child now poking around young carrots to see if any were a size to snack on. "And even under all that calm, all that harmless mask... I know an assassin when I see one."

_Once a hitokiri, always a hitokiri. Until death_.

"So," Kenshin said mildly. "If you believe me to be this most frightening of creatures, O'Neill, why have I not slain you where you sit?"

The colonel snorted. "You wouldn't do that in front of the kid."

Violet melted into amber.

"...I think," O'Neill added under his breath. "I didn't come here alone."

"Teal'c would need ten seconds to leave his cover, draw, and fire through the fence. Carter would need more than that to emerge from her position on that rooftop. You would be dead within three." Battousai regarded the colonel coldly. "Do you truly regard Daniel's choices so little?"

"Not that you care, but Daniel's _choices_ haven't been the best since his wife-" O'Neill bit off his words.

"He is a widower, yes. And perhaps it is you who does not truly understand the depth of grief and guilt he feels, being the cause of his beloved wife's death." For a moment, the world had no scent but plum blossoms. _Oh, Tomoe. Rest easy, beloved._

O'Neill's face kept its wary calm, but his chi shifted uneasily.

"Or _is_ she dead?" Battousai's gaze burned. "And to think he worries at keeping secrets from you."

"If she's not dead, she's gone," the colonel bit out. "He's just started putting his life back together. I'm not going to tear that apart."

"Then you will slay him." The rurouni might have shaken his head; Battousai was still. "One who sees with his heart needs truth as most need air."

"I'm not lying to him. Not like you are," O'Neill said defensively.

" _I_ have not lied to him at all." Dark rage burned in him; _prey, hunt, kill!-_

_No. I will not._

"Damn," O'Neill said, hands trembling as he shoved himself to his feet, backing away. "What the hell are you?"

Sheathed sakabatou in hand, Battousai rose in one fluid motion. "Your lies will kill him, O'Neill. And it will be slow, and painful - and he truly does not wish to die. So he reaches out. He draws _away_ from you-"

"Stop it."

"And that cuts you to the core, for he has taken the place of a son in your heart-"

"Stop it!"

"The son whose blood you _cannot_ wipe from your hands, no matter how you strive to forget-"

"You son of a-"

Honori screamed.

A blur of movement, and he had her. " _Maa, maa_. Shh." Battousai held her close, mindless of the grass staining his gi, feeling only the drum of her frightened heart. "I'm sorry, little one. Forgive me. I'm so sorry..."

"Don't you dare." O'Neill shook his head, fingers flexing as if they wished to wrap a slender throat. "Don't you _dare_ hide behind a kid."

"I never have." Amber burned at the man. "I am not your enemy, O'Neill. But there is a wound in your soul that is broken and bleeding. Tend it - for if _I_ can find the breach in your armor so easily, your true enemies will not hesitate to twist the knife within."

Dark eyes narrowed. Studied him, obviously calculating how fast his right hand might drop from frizzy hair to the hilt of a sword.

"'Tousai?" Honori whispered against his shoulder.

"Shh, little one," Battousai said softly. The rurouni would be gentler... but he could not yield that much yet. "What did I tell you?"

A sob. "'Tousai won't hurt me?"

" _Hai_. You're safe, Honori. That I swear."

_You don't know that!_ O'Neill's skeptical glance shouted.

_Oh, but I do_ , Battousai thought coolly. _My weapons do not leave my guardianship. And children are not my enemies._

Tomoe he had struck; wounded, blind, deaf, and unable to sense chi of friend or foe. But Tomoe had been an adult, one he trusted to save herself. Had there been a child....

_I could never have struck blindly. Even to save my own life. Or hers_.

"Honori," Battousai said plainly. "No one will be hurt here today. Colonel O'Neill and I merely need to speak. As adults." He tapped her chin. "Would you do us the honor of allowing us privacy?"

Wet eyes turned up to his. "Promise? Nobody gets hurt?"

Battousai glanced at O'Neill. _Well?_

"That's a promise, Miss Jacobs," Jack nodded, serious. "Now, if you could just stay right here, and we'll head over this way..."

Back into Teal'c's line of fire, Battousai mused as they stalked down the path between two beds of strawberry bushes. Well, he'd expected no less.

He'd struck his point home. Time to withdraw the blade, and see if the wound might leak its poison and heal. "It was not your fault, O'Neill."

"Like you know anything about it." The colonel's voice was cool. Controlled. Almost a perfect mask for the raw anguish roiling through his chi.

"It was your responsibility, but it was not your fault." Amber softened. "And I do know. I have lost two of my sons. One to human evil... and my firstborn to his own choices. Ill choices, that he might not have made had I been a father and husband first and a warrior for my country second." Violet reappeared, and Kenshin sighed. "Or then again, he might. I cannot know. I only know - now - that his spirit could not rest in Kamiya Kasshin Ryu. None of my children's can. There is... too much fire in us."

"Like father, like kids, huh?" O'Neill raised skeptical brows. "What's your wife have to say about that?"

"It hurt Kaoru, that it did." Kenshin accepted the verbal blow, tying the saya to his belt. _So much pain behind that mask._ "Still, she knew what I was when she married me. It was too much to hope that our lives would ever be normal."

_Yet neither of us truly knew_ what _I was. We thought the wars over, the past behind us. And yes, the hitokiri's rage still struggled in me... but I had killed so many, so young. Who could expect other than that the blood would stain me to the core?_

They'd never expected that same bloodlust to rise in Kenji.

They'd known for the others. Gods, they'd known. And every child had been precious, and loved - and dangerous as all hells between fourteen and twenty.

They'd seen the signs quicker with Mizuki. Moved faster, following Aoshi and Megumi's advice, channeling youkai-spawned fury into as much constructive action and sword-work as possible, exhausting her night after night. They'd never had so much firewood split and stacked.

Yet it wasn't enough. Inu and kitsune were fierce, but they didn't seem to burn as ryuu did. So when love, patience, and desperate ingenuity had worn near to breaking, Kenshin had finally given in and asked Saitou how he managed his pack of wolf-blooded youngsters.

_"I would have thought the answer was obvious, Battousai."_ Saitou's cigarette-stained drawl was still clear as if he'd heard it yesterday. _"Take the cub out and show her how to kill something."_

It worked, damn it.

Kaoru had broken a bokken on his head afterward. And cried, and helped them wash the blood out of their clothes, and cried some more when he'd promised her they'd only been hunting deer.

On foot.

With swords.

Just as he had with Shishou, that last year of training before moral outrage and rising ryuu-hanyou blood overpowered what little common sense a boy just turned teenager had, sending him haring off to the Ishin Shishi.

He'd never felt so much sympathy for Shishou in his _life_.

"You, and Daniel... your wounds fit almost too well," Kenshin stated, setting away the memories. Mizuki was safe. All his surviving children were safe. He'd call tonight and make sure of it. "You wish to look after a young one, and he wishes a parent's love. Yet in your hearts, both of you still stand on the battlefield, waiting for death to strike." Strands of red fell across his face as he met O'Neill's gaze. "I have been there, and I swear to you: _you cannot live this way_."

"And I suppose you've got a suggestion." Sarcasm sharpened O'Neill's tone.

"No. You know your perils better than I, that you do. You, and you alone, can judge what you may risk." Kenshin shrugged. "But I would leave you with this thought. Why do you fight?"

"What, the uniform didn't give you a clue?" Jack countered. "Why _don't_ you fight?"

"I will not yield up my soul."

Jack stared at him.

"A selfish reason, truly," Kenshin admitted. "Yet it remains. There are those who love me, and care for me... and who would grieve a thousand years if ever I became the hitokiri again." He brushed a fingertip over the braided cord wrapping his sakabatou's hilt. "Every time I draw a blade, I remember that the only reason to fight is to protect. And the only thing in this world or the next worth protecting is love."

"You don't lose your soul just because you're a soldier," Jack objected.

"As you have not," Kenshin agreed. "But you are stronger than I, O'Neill. You have the heart of a samurai. You can serve, and accept your orders, and kill. Or refrain, as your superiors' will and circumstances command. I... cannot."

Jack chewed on that for a long, tense moment. "You're serious."

"That I am."

Jack absently stuck his hands in his jacket pockets. "You're telling me you _can't_ get back into a war without killing."

"You have read of hitokiri, O'Neill. You know they were not given orders. Only targets." Kenshin searched Jack's face and chi, hoping for that lone glint of understanding. "And a wise swordsman knows his limitations."

O'Neill paced away. Stopped in front of a multicolored planting. "The heck is this?"

Kenshin's lips twitched. "Chard."

"Chard's a funny green spinach-thing with white stalks," Jack objected. "Some of this stuff is red, some's yellow, some's orange..."

"It is an heirloom," the swordsman stated. "Preserved from an earlier time. By its nature, it cannot conform to what most expect; that it cannot. Yet for its purpose, it is unequalled." He smiled. "For those who cannot quite match themselves to the sameness society expects, it is invaluable."

Silence. Kenshin watched O'Neill's chi shift, seethe-

Settle.

"Janet says you gave her a list of things to look for." Jack turned toward him. "If something like that gaki shows up again, can we call you?"

Kenshin inclined his head. "I would hope that such as Colonel Kennedy have no power over civilians, that I would." He arched a brow in mild inquiry. "And one day, I would hope to know why I am needed." _Talk to me, O'Neill. Tell me why Karen still weeps in the night._

"We'll deal with Kennedy." Some of the tension left O'Neill's shoulders, but his jaw was still set. "Daniel's my responsibility."

"Daniel's actions under your command are your responsibility," Kenshin corrected. "His life is his own." _Though both of you seem to have misplaced that on your way._

"Fine."

_By which you mean, not fine at all_ , Kenshin thought. _Ah, well. Aoshi would not have asked were this a simple matter._

"Just make sure you don't teach him anything that gets in the way of staying alive," Jack finished. Took his hands out of his pockets, gave the swordsman a nod, and stalked out of the garden.

"If Daniel's conscience calls him into danger, none of us can teach him to ignore it," Kenshin murmured under his breath, searching with eyes and senses for a young, frightened chi. "Not even you."

Ah. There, trying to cloak itself among the growing green of carrots fighting their way into sandy soil. "It's all right, Honori. He's gone."

"Ken-san?" The young girl flung herself at his leg. "He was mean!"

"No," Kenshin corrected, laying a hand on small shoulders. "He is hurt. Inside. Like your mother was, when you found her crying and called us. Which was _very_ wise, Honori-chan, that it was. You are a brave girl, to know when you need help."

"Mean," came her muffled answer, face pressed into the folds of his gi.

Ah, to be young and certain of one's self. "Come. Help me rid this plot of intruders, and we shall plant some more seeds."

Honori took her face out of magenta cotton, scowling up at him in confusion. "But we weren't planting seeds!"

Kenshin laughed. "You'll see, little one. You'll see."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Maa, maa - Now, now; it's all right. (Said to calm someone.)  
> Hai - Yes.  
> Saya - sheath.

**Author's Note:**

> Hajimemashite Daniel Jackson desu. - (Roughly) How do you do, my name is Daniel Jackson.  
> Konban wa - Good evening.  
> Hajimemashite Himura Kenshin, de gozaru. - Pleased to meet you for the first time, I am Himura Kenshin. "De gozaru" is a very archaic form of "desu".  
> Hanyou - Half-demon.  
> Youkai - "Demon", more accurately supernatural or paranormal creature. (Can refer to aliens.) Usually a shape-shifter, may or may not be evil, always dangerous.  
> Okashira - "The head", boss. In this case, ninja leader.  
> Kodachi - Sword mid-length between a katana and a wakizashi. Incredible on defense.  
> Onmitsu - Spies, now commonly called ninja.  
> Sessha - "This unworthy one."  
> Kami - Spirits, gods, Powers.  
> Arigatou - Thank you.  
> Seiza - Traditional way of sitting on tatami, especially for the tea ceremony.  
> Bokken - Wooden sword.  
> Bushido - the way of the samurai.  
> Ohayo - Good morning.  
> Anou - Umm….  
> Youki - Supernatural energy.  
> Ojiisan - Grandfather.
> 
> "Oro" doesn't mean anything in specific; you can think of it as roughly equivalent to "Huh?", "Wha-", "Who, me?", or occasionally, "Ow…." Yes, Kenshin is odd.


End file.
